^^,  7/  T/y 


pp. 

m2rt 


TWO    YEARS    UNDER    THE 
CRESCENT 


HADJI"   WRIGHT 


SHEIK    MAHOMET   LABRAM 
From  Masrata  tribe,  "  So/is  of  the  Sabre' 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


1.  "  Hadji  "  Wright  and  Sheik  Mahomet 

2.  Reinforcements  for  the  Sultan  {Coloured) 

3.  The  Oasis  {Coloured)      .... 

4.  The  Pilgrim's  Way,  Zarwia 

5.  A  Typical  Caravan,  Tripoli 

6.  An  Arab  Contingent  in  the  Desert  Fonduk 

7.  The  Bazaar  at  Zarwia 

8.  The  Pass  up  the  Mountain  to  Gherien 

9.  The  Guard 

10.  AziziA 

11.  Ekrem  Bey  and  his  Tuarags 

12.  How  the  Author  sometimes  Travelled 

13.  Muheddin  addressing  his  Men  before  the 

Fight,  Zanzur  .... 

14.  The  Rally 

15.  A  Group  of  Arab  Chieftains,  Zanzur 

16.  Convoy  unloading  inside  Castle  Gherien 

17.  Bomb  discharged   from  P.II  bursting  as  it 

strikes  the  Ground 

18.  Airships  in  Action,  Tripoli 

19.  With  the  Turks  in  Thrace  {Coloured) 

20.  Redifs  Drilling 

21.  Nazim  Pasha 


Frontispiece 


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viii     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 


22.  A  Turkish  Officer  {Coloured) 

23.  LiJLE  Burgas 

24.  The    First    Square    Meal    for    Ten    Days 

Thrace       ...... 

25.  Line  of  Retreat  from  Lule  Burgas    . 

26.  How  the  Wounded  travelled  in  Thrace 

27.  Troopers  billeted  at  a  Farm,  Tchorlu 

28.  Retreat  of  the  Turks  towards  Tchorlu 

29.  Tchatalja  

30.  How  THE   Foreign    Attaches    crossed    the 

Ford  at  Eugene  River     . 


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BOOK  I 
TRIPOLI 


9 


TWO    YEARS    UNDER    THE 
CRESCENT 


CHAPTER    I 

INTRODUCTORY 

As  I  sit  at  home  once  more  amidst  the  welcome 
comforts  of  peace,  contrasted  with  the  exposure  and 
privations  of  the  desert,  and  review  my  many  years 
of  campaigning,  nearly  all  the  world  over,  I  cannot 
but  feel  that  my  most  recent  experiences  in  this 
direction  have  been  in  many  respects  the  most  re- 
markable of  them  all. 

I  have  been  through  greater  hardships,  I  have 
perhaps  encountered  greater  dangers,  but  I  have 
never  before  been  through  a  campaign  where,  In 
spite  of  all  the  modern  facilities  of  communication, 
in  spite  of  all  the  generous  supply  of  newspaper 
correspondents  from  the  world  over,  centralised 
within  the  comparatively  limited  area  of  conflict, 
there  has  yet  been  communicated  to  the  world  at 
large  so  small  a  proportion  of  accurate  information 
regarding  the  origin  of  trouble,  the  progress  of  events, 
and  so  many  deliberate  and  intentional  misrepresen- 

A 


2     TWO  YEAKS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

tations  made  for  the  obvious  purpose  of  still  further 
weakening  the  weaker  cause. 

I    undertook    this  commission   from   the    Central 
News     with     a     perfectly     unbiased     mind,    and     I 
honestly  believe  it  to  be  in  that  condition  necessary 
to   equitable    judgment   at   the   present  moment.     I 
had  had  previous  experience  with  troops  of  nearly 
every  nationality,  and  knew  something — in  some  cases 
a  great  deal — of  their  individual  characteristics,  but 
of  Turkey  and  the  Turk  I  knew  absolutely  nothing. 
Indeed,  I  may  perhaps  go  to  the  extent  of  admitting 
that  if  I  had  formulated  any  ideas  about  him  at  all, 
from  books,  from  newspapers,  or  from  hearsay,  I  had, 
in   common    with    many    other   misinformed    people, 
quite   unconsciously  received   an   impression   not   at 
all   in   his   favour.     To   an  extent   I   would  explain 
this  by  remarking  upon  a  notable  characteristic  in 
his  nature,   one   for  which   I  must  admit  a  certain 
amount  of  sympathy — that  is,  an  absolute  indifference 
to  outside  opinion.     Not  self-satisfied  conceit  by  any 
means,  but  a  settled  conviction  that  his  actions  have 
been  so  far  instigated  by  what  he,  rightly  or  wrongly, 
considers  to  be  right  principles,  that  he  feels  justified 
in  politely  ignoring  criticism  from  anyone  whom  he 
feels  to  be  unable  to  sympathise  with  his  motives. 
It  is  not  altogether  an  undesirable  trait  either ;    at 
all  events  it  is  preferable  to  hypocrisy. 

But  however  undefined  my  opinions  of  the  Turk 
may  have  been  before  this  campaign  began,  they  are 
now  very  definite,   very  pronounced,  and  what  has 


INTRODUCTORY  3 

influenced  them  I  wish  now  to  set  forth,  without 
any  excuses  and  without  any  embeUishments.  In 
the  course  of  the  relation  of  my  narrative  I  shall 
sincerely  endeavour  not  to  give  expression  to  any 
sentiments  or  any  feeling  which  I  cannot  justify  by 
the  introduction  of  facts  and  circumstances,  well  sub- 
stantiated. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  say  here  that  it  is 
quite  impossible  for  any  man  or  woman  at  home  to 
have  the  faintest  conception  of,  or  to  make  any 
adequate  allowances  for,  the  unspeakable  horrors  of 
war.  The  conditions  of  warfare  are  not  normal,  and 
they  cannot  be  judged  by  normal  standards.  To  an 
alarming  extent,  quite  irrespective  of  nationality, 
human  nature  becomes  human  nature  no  longer ; 
sexual  distinctions,  even  the  reverence  and  affection 
universally  admitted  to  be  due  to  old  age  and  to 
youth,  become  temporarily  obliterated  from  a  brain, 
the  senses  and  feelings  of  which  are  no  longer  under 
natural  control.  Everyone  who  has  had  the  slightest 
experience  of  warfare  will  be  in  a  position  to  justify 
the  truthfulness  of  this  seemingly  alarming  statement, 
and  it  cannot  be  too  strongly  emphasized,  particularly 
to  anyone  who  has  heard  of  some  terrible  instance  of 
cruelty  and  torture,  and  whose  mind,  naturally  revolt- 
ing against  its  perpetrators,  instinctively  conceives  a 
bitter  hatred  towards  the  nationality  which  its  per- 
petrators happen  to  represent.  The  point  at  which  I 
want  to  arrive  is  that  it  is  most  certainly  not  a  fault 
of  any  particular  nationality,  it  is  purely  and  simply 


4    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  fault,  or  failing,  of  human  nature  temporarily 
abnormal.  If  it  is  assumed  by  the  reader  that  I  am 
suggesting  excuses  for  any  one  of  the  nations  involved 
in  the  conflicts  from  which  I  have  just  returned  I 
would  like  to  correct  that  assumption  at  once,  for  I 
most  certainly  am  not ;  for  whilst  I  have,  from  actual 
personal  experience  and  observation,  found  them  to  be 
equally  guilty  of  cruelties  and  outrages  which,  if  I 
dared  to  relate  them,  would  appal  the  reader  with 
their  horrors,  and  which  only  can  be  explained  by  the 
reasons  which  I  have  ventured  to  suggest,  I  have 
also  witnessed  many  acts  of  humanity  and  tenderness 
which  at  any  time,  and  under  any  circumstances, 
would  be  a  credit  to  mankind.  It  will  be  within  the 
memory  of  many  of  my  readers,  that  one  of  the 
greatest  painters  of  modern  time  was  expelled  from 
the  country  which  he  represented,  and  the  exhibition 
of  his  pictures  absolutely  forbidden  there,  because  his 
portrayal  of  the  terrors  of  warfare  were  so  vividly  and 
faithfully  realistic.  It  must  also  be  borne  in  mind 
that  racial  differences  are  trivial  in  comparison  with 
rehgious  variances,  and  to  a  large  extent  this  has  been 
a  religious  war,  than  which  there  is  no  influence  in  the 
world  so  powerful,  so  disturbing.  With  these  few 
preliminary  remarks,  very  important  in  their  way,  I 
will  begin  my  story. 


CHAPTER   II 

TO   TRIPOLI,  THE   UNKNOWN 

My  journey  from  London  to  Tunis  in  September,  1911, 
was  uneventful  enough — its  continuation  from  there 
to  Sfax  equally  so.  Sfax  seems  to  be  the  end  of  all 
things  to  the  traveller  sensible  at  all  to  comfort,  as 
the  railway  terminates  there.  Ahead  of  me  was  the 
seductive  illusion  of  green  fields  and  olive  groves, 
which  I  knew  only  too  soon  gave  way  to  the  wastes 
of  the  desert;  to  my  left  the  blue  waters  of  the 
Mediterranean.  My  destination  of  course  was 
Tripoli,  or  as  near  to  it  as  any  means  of  conveyance 
would  carry  me.  I  had  Zwarra  in  my  mind  as  a 
desirable  spot,  but  it  was  some  250  miles  by  water, 
and  at  least  another  hundred  or  so  by  land.  Their 
respective  disadvantages  were  put  before  me  by  those 
whom  I  took  into  my  confidence  in  no  particularly 
encouraging  manner. 

By  the  land  route  the  likely  danger  to  be  en- 
countered was  one  or  another  of  the  prowling  bands 
of  Arab  brigands,  naturally  restless  and  disturbed  by 
conditions  of  war,  and  more  likely  than  usual  to  act 
upon  the  offensive,  unless  the  escort  were  adequate 
for  defence.  At  sea  there  were  at  least  seventy 
Italian    boats — battleships,    cruisers,    torpedo    boats, 


6     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

and  others — keeping  a  ceaseless  vigil  for  any  contra- 
band of  war,  and  as  my  credentials  consisted  entirely 
of  a  letter  of  introduction  from  the  Turkish  Embassy 
in  London  to  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Turkish 
forces  outside  Tripoli,  it  did  not  seem  likely  that  any 
one  of  them  who  might  happen  to  waylay  me  would 
consider  me  to  be  in  every  respect  the  most  desirable 
person  to  be  allowed  to  proceed. 

Sfax  is  an  ancient  walled  seaport,  earlier  asso- 
ciated with  piracy,  but  as  its  more  modern  attractions 
include  a  fairly  good  hotel,  I  made  my  way  there  to 
consider  my  future  movements  over  the  present 
material  considerations  of  a  good  meal.  It  was  the 
last  of  its  kind  for  many  a  day.  Circumstances 
seemed  rather  to  suggest  the  sea  route  as  being  the 
one  easier  to  arrange  for,  and  as  this  coincided  more 
with  my  inclinations  I  was  not  loath  to  encourage 
them.  A  servant  at  the  hotel  told  me  of  a  friend  of 
his,  to  whom  I  was  subsequently  introduced,  who, 
with  his  brother  and  two  sons,  ran  a  small  six-ton 
boat  which  happened  to  be  at  that  moment  in  the 
harbour.  Their  interests  were  fishing  and  the  col- 
lection of  a  grass  called  halfa,  from  which  is  made 
ropes  and  matting.  For  both  of  these  industries 
they  had  local  rights,  so  that  they  were  fairly 
well  known,  a  circumstance  not  altogether  in  favour 
of  my  project,  which  indeed  for  the  moment  I  was  not 
anxious  to  confide  to  them. 

Mohammed,  the  captain,  was  a  thick-set,  pleasant- 
looking  Arab  of  about  sixty  years  of  age.     I  com- 


TO   TRIPOLI,   THE   UNKNOWN  7 

merited  upon  his  genial  and  rotund  appearance,  and 
he  assured  me  that  he  had  Httle  else  to  do  than  to 
get  fat.  He  had  a  house  and  gardens  in  Sfax,  and 
three  wives  to  look  after  them,  with  plenty  of  time  to 
eat  sweetmeats  and  enjoy  themselves.  In  spite  of  all 
this  affluence  the  bait  of  a  sovereign  tempted  him  to 
consent  to  take  me  with  his  crew  for  a  night's  fishing 
to  the  two  Kergulan  Islands,  the  banks  of  which  were 
included  in  his  fishing  rights,  and  which  lay  some 
thirty  miles  off  the  coast. 

We  started  about  ten  o'clock,  a  beautiful  starlight 
night,  with  unfortunately  little  wind.  We  were  not 
allowed  to  drift  out  of  the  harbour  without  observa- 
tion, for  we  were  immediately  followed  by  the  Customs 
steam  launch,  which  hailed  us  and  asked  our  business. 
I  told  them  that  we  were  going  to  get  the  nets 
off  the  islands,  and  they  appeared  to  be  satisfied. 
Once  out  at  sea  I  felt  that  my  journey  had  started 
in  real  earnest,  and  wrapping  myself  around  with  my 
overcoat  as  best  I  could,  I  settled  myself  down  to  a 
somewhat  restless  night  in  the  open  boat.  It  was 
not  particularly  cold,  but  I  was  glad  enough  to  feel 
the  warmth  of  the  rising  sun,  and  sorry  enough  to 
find  that,  although  we  had  a  good  supply  of  food 
on  board,  we  had  forgotten  to  bring  any  coffee. 
Mohammed  endeavoured  to  console  me  with  the 
assurance  that  there  would  be  plenty  of  coffee,  plenty 
of  everything,  upon  the  islands ;  in  fact  from  his 
description  I  imagined  that  we  were  going  to  be 
refreshed  at  some  place  like  a  Tunisian  open-air  caf^. 


8     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

We  arrived  at  the  smaller  of  the  two  islands  about 
noon,  and  anchored  a  little  way  off  the  shore.  Our 
boat  only  drew  a  few  feet  of  water,  so  that  one  of  the 
crew  very  quickly  w^aded  ashore  and  secured  a  small 
boat  that  was  lying  there.  The  landing-stage  was 
most  primitive,  consisting  of  large  tied-up  bundles 
of  grass,  which  gave  a  very  insecure  footing.  Once 
landed  we  started  off  to  find  the  village,  which,  the 
captain  assured  me,  was  about  two  miles  inland. 

It  was  tiring  walking — a  cloudless  sky,  burning 
sun,  and  hot  sand  into  which  the  feet  sunk  and  held. 
Of  herbage  there  was  very  little,  a  blade  of  grass  to 
every  square  yard  or  so.  There  were  a  few  sheep 
about,  but  what  they  feed  on  I  cannot  think.  If 
they  rely  upon  the  grass  I  imagine  that  they  would 
have  to  perambulate  an  area  of  about  thirty  miles 
to  collect  enouorh  for  one  meal.  There  were  clusters 
of  date  palms,  but  the  fruit  was  only  half  ripe — 
nice  to  look  at,  but  horrible  to  taste.  The  palms 
grow  from  six  or  ten  feet  to  fifty  feet  high,  so 
that  the  fruit  from  some  of  the  smaller  trees  was 
easily  accessible.  To  the  many  people  to  whom  this 
delightful  fruit  is  only  known  as  it  is  sold  in  this 
country,  it  would  come  as  a  surprise  to  know  how 
it  is  constantly  consumed  where  it  is  grown,  before  it 
is  fit  to  eat.  I  picked  some  here  ;  it  was  then  late  in 
September.  They  broke  off  quite  short,  and  in  taste 
were  acrid  in  the  extreme.  I  wanted  refreshment 
badly,  but  not  of  that  order. 

We  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  village,  a  typical 


TO   TRIPOLI,  THE   UNKNOWN  9 

Arab  collection  of  one-storied,  flat-roofed  houses,  built 
of  sun-dried  mud  bricks  and  rough  stones.  A  motley 
collection  of  human  beings  came  out  to  meet  us.  It 
scarcely  seemed  possible,  but  very  few  of  them  had 
ever  seen  a  white  man  before,  as  it  appears  that  the 
islands  have  not  the  best  of  reputations,  and  indeed 
there  is  little  reason  for  anyone  but  a  native  to  call 
there.  Followed  by  a  procession  of  loafers,  Mohammed 
escorted  me  to  his  boasted  cafe,  which  was  closed  in 
consequence  of  its  owner's  indulgence  in  his  midday 
siesta.  I  was  glad  enough  to  sit  down  outside  and 
rest  under  its  shady  wall  within  a  crowded  semicircle 
of  admirers,  whilst  the  boys  were  sent  off  to  hunt  for 
its  proprietor.  He  was  soon  discovered,  and  came 
hurrying  along,  full  of  apologies,  with  the  key  of  the 
broken-down  shanty  in  his  hand.  The  main  room 
was  furnished  with  rough  high  benches  around  the 
walls  for  those  who  elected  to  avail  themselves  of 
their  use,  and  matting  upon  the  floors  for  those 
who  preferred  to  recline.  We  selected  the  latter, 
and  whilst  we  had  our  coffee  the  Sheik,  or  head 
man  of  the  village,  was  sent  for,  that  he  might  be 
intimated  of  the  arrival  of  an  unexpected  visitor. 
He  had  probably  heard  of  it,  for  he  appeared  almost 
immediately,  dressed  in  the  picturesque  combined 
garment  of  head-gear  and  cloak,  called  a  hram, 
invariably  worn  by  the  Arab,  varying  little  excepting 
in  size  and  quality. 

He  received  us  with  an  enthusiastic  welcome,  a 
welcome  that  instinctively  put  me  upon  my  guard, 


lo    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

fortunately  for  myself,  as  I  will  relate.  His  hospi- 
tality was  profuse,  considering  the  limitations  of 
the  bill  of  fare.  He  was  determined  that  we  should 
eat  together  before  we  parted,  and  as  I  was  exceed- 
ingly hungry  I  was  not  reluctant  to  avail  myself 
of  the  suggestion,  and  I  was  not  particularly  critical 
of  the  dish.  It  consisted  of  a  concoction  of  mullet 
prepared  in  a  stew-pan,  seasoned  with  a  great  deal 
of  pepper.  We  boasted  no  cutlery,  so  that  on  the 
principle  that  fingers  were  made  before  forks,  we 
proceeded  to  use  them  to  the  best  possible  advantage  ; 
and  I  may  add  that,  under  the  circumstances,  we 
succeeded  very  well  indeed.  The  conversation  was 
interesting,  but  necessarily  somewhat  limited,  as  my 
contribution  to  it  was  in  French,  and  that  not  of  the 
best,  to  one  of  the  boys  who  conveyed  it,  more  or 
less  literally,  to  my  host  in  Arabic. 

As  the  afternoon  wore  on,  and  it  was  near  sun- 
set, I  became  anxious  to  resume  my  journey ;  indeed 
I  might  say  start  it,  as  this  visit  to  the  island  was 
more  or  less  in  the  way  of  a  subterfuge.  Directly  I 
gave  expression  to  the  desire  my  host  insisted  upon 
sending  for  donkeys,  and  as  I  had  no  wish  for  a  re- 
petition of  the  sandy  walk,  I  thought  it  an  excellent 
suggestion. 

I  sauntered  around  this  quaint  village  whilst  the 
animals  were  being  found,  and  was  interested  in  the 
discovery  of  a  building  in  the  course  of  erection, 
particularly  as  the  large  stones  necessary  for  the 
purpose  were  being  carried  from  some  distance   by 


TO   TRIPOLI,   THE   UNKNOWN         ii 

three  or  four  women.  Upon  inquiry  I  learned  that 
this  was  the  extended  residence  of  a  somewhat 
wealthy  merchant  who  had  gone  away  to  purchase 
a  new  wife,  and  that  this  extension  of  the  building 
was  for  her  accommodation.  As  the  masons  them- 
selves appeared  to  be  somewhat  lethargic  in  their 
movements  I  had  the  curiosity  to  inquire  as  to  their 
rate  of  pay,  and  was  told  that  they  had  none  at  all, 
but  simply  worked  for  their  food  in  return  for  their 
services.  This  circumstance  appeared  to  me  to  excuse 
somewhat  their  lack  of  enthusiasm.  After  about 
an  hour  the  animals  arrived,  wonderfully  like  circus 
donkeys,  with  saddles  like  small  tables  such  as  one 
has  been  accustomed  to  see  performers  jump  upon 
through  rings  of  tissue  paper.  But  it  was  a  great 
deal  better  squatting  upon  even  such  a  saddle  as  this 
than  tramping  through  the  sand,  so  that  I  promptly 
mounted  one  of  them. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  coast,  as  it  was  getting 
dusk,  our  small  party  was  augmented  by  a  most 
undesirable  individual,  a  sinister-looking  person  with 
a  cast  in  his  eye,  who  appeared  to  be  on  quite  familiar 
terms  with  my  host.  The  meeting  was  obviously  by 
arrangement,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  excuse  for 
failing  to  return  courtesies  extended,  so  I  invited 
them  on  board  to  have  whatever  meal  we  could  pre- 
pare at  the  moment.  It  was  not  at  all  bad  either,  a 
dish  known  to  the  Arabs  as  cous  cous.  It  is  a  mixture 
of  semolina  flavoured  with  saffron,  and  anything  edible 
is   introduced   without    further    qualification.      Fish, 


12     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

fowl,  vegetable,  and  ground,  corn  with  oil,  salt,  and 
pepper  for  seasoning.  All  this  is  served  up  in  one 
common  earthenware  bowl,  and  I  should  imagine  it  to 
be  one  of  the  most  primitive  dishes  that  has  ever 
survived  ancient  culinary  methods. 

After  the  meal  I  gave  my  guests  cigarettes  and 
coffee,  and  I  later  wished  that  I  had  limited  the 
liquid  refreshment  to  that  harmless  and  invigorating 
beverage.  But  in  an  evil  moment  I  remembered 
that  I  had  a  supply  of  spirits  in  my  baggage,  and 
foolishly  I  produced  a  bottle  of  whisky  and  a  bottle 
of  rum.  The  whisky  could  not  have  been  better,  but 
the  rum  was  indifferent,  and  it  had  a  most  undesirably 
enlivening  effect  upon  my  friends.  The  conversation 
may  have  been  hampered  by  the  unsatisfactory 
manner  in  which  it  had  to  be  conducted,  but  it 
suffered  from  no  lack  of  interest.  At  every  fresh 
libation  the  Arabs  became  more  and  more  excited, 
and  when  I  saw  the  boy  looking  worried  and  con- 
fused, and  when  he  failed  to  translate  to  me  the 
voluble  remarks  which  were  being  made,  I  began 
to  become  very  curious  as  to  their  import.  I  leaned 
back  and  smoked  my  cigarette  in  silence  for  some 
little  time,  but  when  I  found  that  the  storm  of 
words  was  rather  rising  than  subsiding,  without  any 
comment  I  corked  the  bottles  and  locked  them  away 
in  my  bag.  This  action  was  not  appreciated,  and 
the  sinister-looking  scoundrel  looked  fiercer  and  more 
sinister-looking  than  ever.     The  Sheik  looked  a  bit 


TO   TRIPOLI,   THE   UNKNOWN         13 

dangerous  too,  so  that  with  the  idea  of  bringing 
matters  to  a  crisis,  and  in  the  most  casual  manner 
that  I  could  assume,  I  brought  my  revolver  unob- 
trusively from  my  back  pocket  and  proceeded  to 
make  a  careful  examination  of  it.  It  had  the  de- 
sired effect,  for  both  the  Arabs  immediately  sprang 
to  their  feet,  the  villainous-looking  person  making 
one  jump  from  his  seat  in  the  boat  right  into  the 
sea  and  waded  quickly  ashore,  whilst  the  Sheik  with 
small  ceremony  of  leave-taking  followed  him  in  the 
boat.  We  were  only  a  hundred  feet  or  so  from  the 
shore,  and  when  they  had  landed  they  began,  with 
many  gesticulations,  shouting  to  Mohammed.  I  did 
not  like  it,  and  insisted  upon  knowing  something  of 
what  they  had  said,  and  also  insisted  that  we  should 
lift  the  anchor  and  get  off  at  once.  Mohammed  was 
so  reticent  as  to  the  nature  of  the  conversation,  and 
his  account  of  it  so  obviously  untruthful,  that  I 
tackled  the  boy,  and  it  was  not  until  violent 
threats  had  been  added  to  the  demands  that  I  in- 
duced him  to  say  anything.  He  then  told  me  that 
the  Arabs  had  suggested  that  I  was  a  wealthy 
Englishman  travelling  for  pleasure,  and  that  I  prob- 
ably had  plenty  of  gold  in  my  possession,  which 
indeed  I  had.  They  wanted  at  once  to  overpower 
me  and  cut  my  throat,  but  apparently  the  sight 
of  the  revolver  frightened  them.  They  evidently 
thought  either  that  I  understood  something  of  what 
they  had  said,  or  that  I  guessed  their  purpose.     I 


14    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

further  elicited  the  information  that  when  they  had 
called  out  from  the  shore  they  had  told  Mohammed 
that  on  no  account  must  he  leave  the  coast,  as  in 
the  morning  they  would  return  armed,  and  with 
further  assistance  to  accomplish  their  purpose.  I 
turned  to  Mohammed  and  told  him  without  much 
flattery  what  I  thought  of  him,  and  what  I  would 
do  to  him  unless  he  set  sail  immediately.  He  pro- 
tested that  he  feared  this  Sheik,  and  the  conse- 
quences of  disobeying  him,  as  he  was  a  powerful 
and  influential  man. 

I  gave  him  clearly  to  understand  that  I  had  more 
interest  in  my  own  future  movements  than  concern  as 
to  the  possible  consequences  to  him,  and  that  unless  he 
lifted  the  anchor  and  set  sail  at  once  I  should  most 
certainly  shoot  him.  I  emphasized  the  argument  by 
again  fondling  my  revolver,  and  it  apparently  per- 
suaded him,  for  in  a  very  short  time  we  were  sailing 
quietly  away  from  the  island  in  a  pleasant  breeze.  It 
was  a  fine  night,  and  I  felt  disinclined  for  sleep.  My 
confidence  in  Mohammed  was  not  very  secure  either, 
and  I  was  anxious  to  lose  no  more  time  before 
explaining  to  him  what  I  wanted,  and  persuading  him 
to  give  me  his  assistance. 

He  listened  with  gesticulations  of  dissent  as  he 
gradually  realised  what  I  required.  It  was  impossible, 
he  said ;  the  chance  of  being  detained  by  the  Italians 
was  practically  a  certainty,  and  the  journey  was  too 
long  and  too  dangerous.     But  I  used  all  the  persuasive 


TO  TRIPOLI,   THE  UNKNOWN         15 

appeals  that  I  could  invent,  and  I  backed  them  up 
with  an  offer  of  another  five  sovereigns,  which  I  pro- 
duced and  jingled,  to  the  one  which  I  had  already 
promised,  and  eventually  to  my  delight  Mohammed 
reluctantly  consented  to  chance  it. 


CHAPTER   III 

TO  THE   SOUND   OF   THE   GUNS 

But  the  fates  were  against  us,  for  the  next  morning, 
when  about  twenty  miles  from  the  islands,  and  whilst 
still  in  the  shallow  water  of  their  banks,  the  wind 
veered  round  to  the  east  and  rapidly  increased  to  a 
gale.  To  add  to  the  misery  it  began  to  rain,  steadily 
and  persistently. 

This  craft,  which  I  have  not  previously  described, 
was  an  open  boat  of  about  twenty-five  feet  long.  It 
certainly  had  a  small  covered  forecastle,  but  it  was 
little  protection,  and  indeed  it  served  as  the  receptacle 
for  anything  and  everything  that  was  in  the  way  else- 
where. The  only  cover  possible  was  formed  by  the 
thwarts,  the  wide  seats  across  the  boat,  and,  as  can  be 
imagined,  it  was  not  much  shelter  from  a  penetrating 
east  wind  and  a  driving  rain.  The  rudder  swung 
loosely  on  rope  bands,  and  altogether  I  should  think 
that  she  varied  little  from  the  primitive  crafts  of  two 
thousand  years  ago. 

We  were  anchored  here,  with  little  variation  as  to 
these  miserable  weather  conditions,  for  four  days,  and 
I  do  not  think  that  ever  before  have  I  experienced  a 
more  hopelessly  wretched,  tedious,  irritating  four  days 
in  the  whole  of  my  life.    The  feelings  of  anxiety  to  get 

i6 


TO  THE  SOUND  OF  THE  GUNS   17 

on,  and  the  inability  to  do  so,  were  distracting  in  the 
extreme. 

We  were  provided  for  a  month  with  a  good  variety 
of  food — tinned  beef,  sardines,  butter,  jam,  &c. — but  I 
thought  it  wise  to  exercise  some  economy,  as  the  source 
of  further  supplies  was  doubtful. 

The  octopus  formed  an  occasional  dish,  but  they 
are  not  exactly  a  delicacy,  although  of  course  only  the 
feelers  are  eaten.  They  vary  in  size  ;  those  which  we 
caught  were  perhaps  two  or  three  feet  in  their  extreme 
measurements.  They  are  found  sometimes,  of  course, 
as  long  as  ten  or  twelve  feet.  The  feelers  are  only 
eatable  after  they  have  been  beaten  with  clubs  for 
some  three  hours,  and  then  they  are  not  very 
palatable. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  fourth  day  the  wind  and 
weather  changed,  and  I  could  have  shouted  with 
pleasure  when  we  drew  up  the  anchor  and  set  sail 
eastward.  The  blue  sky  and  sea,  the  delightfully 
warm  sunshine  and  the  pleasant  breeze  almost  ob- 
literated from  my  mind  the  memory  of  those  four 
days  of  misery.  I  wanted  to  bathe,  but  they  assured 
me  that  there  were  many  sharks  in  those  waters.  I 
laughed  at  the  idea,  but  when  I  was  divesting  myself 
of  my  clothes  Mohammed's  brother  forcibly  threw 
himself  upon  me  and  restrained  me  from  fulfilling  my 
intentions.  I  was  very  thankful  that  he  did  so,  for 
just  at  that  moment  the  largest  shark  I  have  ever 
seen  cut  right  under  our  bow.  I  saw  a  number  later, 
another  one  particularly  large,  and  it  is  a  very  singular 


1 8    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

circumstance  that  I  should  see  the  two  largest  I  have 
ever  seen,  in  the  Mediterranean,  where  many  people 
would  repudiate  the  suggestion  that  they  existed  at 
all.  I  can  only  suppose  that  they  came  from  the 
Indian  Ocean  through  the  Suez  Canal.  I  found  a 
chunk  of  bacon  and  a  big  hook  and  tried  to  get  a  bite, 
but  had  no  such  luck.  I  left  my  line  and  bait 
fastened  to  the  stern,  but  in  the  morning  it  was  gone. 
I  rather  think  that  Mohammed  was  responsible  for 
that,  as  he  would  think  it  unlucky  to  have  the  unclean 
food  attached  to  his  boat,  and  probably  cut  it  adrift. 

The  previous  day  when  rummaging  amongst  the 
provisions  which  I  had  brought  with  me  he  had  dis- 
covered this  detested  meat,  and  accidentally  touched 
it.  With  a  prayer  to  Allah  for  forgiveness  he  rushed 
to  the  forcastle  and  drew  bucket  after  bucket  of  water 
before  he  was  satisfied  that  he  had  washed  away  the 
malign  influence  of  this  evil  thing. 

Three  days  after  our  enforced  idleness  off  the 
islands  I  had  my  first  sight  of  Tripoli  ;  a  faint  line  it 
looked,  shimmering  in  the  hot  sunshine  between  sea 
and  sky.  A  little  later  a  very  serious  difficulty 
presented  itself  in  the  shape  of  an  Italian  cruiser. 
We  happened  to  be  passing  over  the  sponge  beds,  and 
Mohammed  applied  the  circumstance  to  a  very  useful 
purpose.  The  cruiser  was  stationed  at  the  western 
limit  of  the  blockade,  her  duty  of  course  being  to 
prevent  any  boats  from  landing  contraband  of  war, 
which  I  personally  would  have  been  considered. 

Mohammed  proposed  that  as  the  risk  of  capture 


TO   THE   SOUND   OF   THE    GUNS        19 

was  considerable,  and  as  such  an  event  would  mean 
disaster  for  us  all,  I  should  lie  concealed  in  the  boat, 
whilst  they,  the  crew,  were  making  a  pretence  of 
fishing  for  sponges. 

He  reminded  me  that  I  was  in  European  attire, 
and  that  the  Italians  had  sharp  eyes,  and  that  already 
we  were  probably  under  observation.  Then,  he  said, 
should  Allah  give  us  a  fair  wind,  when  night  came  on 
we  might  get  through  to  the  harbour  of  Boukermesh, 
some  twenty-five  miles  off  which  we  were  lying. 
The  monotony  of  that  day  can  well  be  imagined  as 
I  was  lying  at  full  length  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat, 
curiosity  tempting  me,  almost  beyond  endurance,  to 
take  a  peep  over  the  side  to  discover  what  was  going 
on,  and  prudence  forbidding  me  to  do  so.  We  had 
no  chance  whatever  of  flight,  even  had  we  so  desired, 
for  the  cruiser's  guns  would  quickly  have  reduced  our 
little  boat  to  matchwood.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the 
suspicions  of  the  Italians  had  been  for  a  moment 
aroused  we  should,  beyond  a  doubt,  have  been  taken 
prisoners,  certainly  not  released  until  the  war  had 
ceased,  and  poor  Mohammed  would  probably  have  lost 
his  boat. 

These  were  my  cheering  contemplations  the  day 
through,  whilst  my  outlook  consisted  of  the  patch 
of  blue  sky  above  me  and  the  bronzed  figure  of 
Mohammed  with  his  hand  upon  the  helm.  Relief 
came  with  the  night,  for  a  slight  mist  crept  up,  and 
under  that  and  a  fair  breeze  we  sailed  over  the  dangre 
line.     It  was  impossible,  however,  to  enter  the  harbour 


20    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

at  nip'tit-time,  for  the  tortuous  channel  winds  between 
sand-bars,  which  can  only  be  seen  in  the  daylight.  In 
the  early  morning  we  were  more  fortunate,  and  soon 
after  the  sun  was  up  we  were  within  a  few  miles 
of  the  harbour,  which  is  a  most  beautiful  spot,  a 
natural  harbour  formed  by  a  sand-bank  ten  miles 
long.  The  water  is  crystal  clear,  showing  the  clean 
sand  at  a  great  depth.  There  is  vegetation  in 
patches,  and  the  number  and  variety  of  the  birds — 
wild  geese,  duck,  flamingo,  and  many  others — made 
me  wish  that  my  mission  had  been  game  shooting 
instead  of  what  it  was.  There  in  the  blazing  sun 
was  the  fort  which  I  was  given  to  understand  was 
a  stronghold  of  the  Turkish  forces. 

Beyond  it,  against  a  blue  sky,  and  standing  upon 
a  sand-bank  at  least  fifty  feet  high,  was  the  mosque 
which  marked  the  last  resting-place  of  the  revered 
Sheik,  Sidi  Said. 

To  the  east  a  faint  trail  of  smoke  marked  the 
position  of  the  Italian  cruiser  as  she  steamed  slowly 
off  upon  her  beat  as  far  as  Zwarra.  At  least  that 
destination  was  a  fair  assumption,  but  she  might  turn 
at  any  moment,  certainly  if  the  look-out  happened  to 
discern  us  within  a  suspicious  distance  of  the  shore. 
Our  next  consideration  being  the  rapid  decreasing  of 
this  distance,  I  proposed  to  Mohammed  that  we  might 
proclaim  our  interests  by  hoisting  the  Turkish  flag. 
He  raised  no  objection  to  this,  as  the  cruiser  was 
nearly  out  of  sight,  and  his  suggested  fears  of  the 
place  being  deserted  were  soon  dispelled. 


TO   THE   SOUND    OF   THE   GUNS       21 

Through  my  field-glasses  the  movement  of  figures 
upon  the  fort  could  be  distinctly  observed  moving 
rapidly  about,  obviously  interested  in  our  approach. 
So  that  in  the  morning  sunshine  we  ran  up  our  flag 
to  the  masthead,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life 
I  found  myself  under  the  Turkish  colours.  It  was  of 
little  interest  to  me  at  the  moment,  but  in  looking 
back  since  that  morning  the  incident  has  been,  many 
and  many  a  time,  a  most  memorable  one. 

Before  noon  we  cast  anchor,  and  a  little  later  I 
was  deposited  with  my  baggage  upon  a  small  ruined 
causeway. 

The  commander,  an  Arab,  in  white  garments 
and  wearing  a  Turkish  fez,  came  to  meet  me.  He 
appeared  to  be  surprised  that  neither  Mohammed  nor 
myself  could  communicate  anything  to  him,  either  as 
to  my  wishes  or  my  desired  destination.  I  shook  him 
by  the  hand  and  said  two  words,  "  Fethy  Bey,"  and 
stood  there  feeling  like  the  Saracen  maid  calling  for 
Beckett  in  London.  Mohammed  supplemented  this 
by  mentioning  Zwarra.  Now  it  happened,  as  I  after- 
wards discovered,  that  Fethy  Bey  was  supposed  to 
be  in  Zwarra,  and  that  my  new  friend  was  an  Arab 
sergeant,  who  with  only  half  a  dozen  others  de- 
fended this  harbour  against  any  attack  that  the 
enemy  might  make.  The  Arab  is  always  hospitable, 
and  the  first  thing  that  he  was  anxious  to  do  was 
to  introduce  me  to  the  fort  and  his  companions  its 
defenders.  Fortunately  I  had  coffee  and  sugar, 
although    tea    is    always    preferred,    and    with   this 


22    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

light  refreshment  and  ray  cigarettes,  which  still 
further  enhanced  my  popularity,  in  a  very  little  time 
I  felt  as  if  we  had  been  friends  for  years.  Before  we 
had  been  seated  half  an  hour  a  caravan  of  camels 
sprung  up,  it  seemed  from  nowhere,  and  a  few  minutes 
later  I  was  arranging  to  buy  or  hire  the  whole  lot, 
which  consisted  of  four  camels  and  their  drivers. 
My  luck  again  held  good,  for  this  caravan  had  just 
arrived  from  Zwarra  bringing  provisions  and  stores, 
and  moreover  was  just  returning  there.  After  some 
bargaining  they  consented  to  convey  me  and  my 
baggage  there  for  the  modest  consideration  of  twenty 
shillings,  an  offer  of  which  I  very  quickly  availed 
myself,  with  the  smallest  display  of  gratification 
that  I  could  assume.  My  new  friend  the  Arab 
sergeant,  having  delegated  the  poor  protection  of 
the  fort  to  his  comrades,  insisted  upon  seeing  me 
in  safety  to  Zwarra,  the  next  post,  where  he  be- 
lieved Fethy  Bey  to  be.  Now  I  understood  from 
Mohammed  that  Zwarra  was  only  about  fifteen  miles 
away.  And  so  lightly  and  carelessly  I  started  upon 
what  proved  to  be  more  than  a  fifty  miles  journey. 

Not  a  particularly  comfortable  one  either,  for  it 
was  vastly  different  to  my  other  experiences  of  using 
a  camel  as  a  means  of  conveyance. 

In  Egypt  I  remember  years  ago  travelling  many 
hundreds  of  miles  seated  luxuriously  upon  a  Mharri 
or  riding  camel,  where  the  gentle  movement  of  the 
animal  was  almost  conducive  to  sleep,  but  on  this 
journey  all  my  interests  were  centred  in  an  anxious 


TO  THE  SOUND  OF  THE  GUNS   23 

endeavour  to  maintain  my  equilibrium.  The  method 
of  loading  the  creature  is  simple  if  somewhat  insecure. 

First  of  all  your  baggage,  and  any  other  inci- 
dentals that  the  animal  may  have  to  carry,  are 
perilously  perched  upon  its  back.  When  it  is  quite 
impossible  to  pile  up  any  more  you  then  mount 
the  load  and  carefully  balance  yourself  upon  the  heap 
as  best  you  can. 

It  has  the  undoubted  advantage  of  being  exciting, 
but  very  little  else  to  recommend  it.  The  camel  has 
no  bridle,  and  no  girth  but  ropes ;  but  it  has  a 
net  arrangement  around  its  body,  something  like  a 
capacious  holdall,  into  which  you  might  hope  to  have 
the  luck  to  fall  if  you  had  the  misfortune  to  lose 
your  balance. 

I  thought  that  the  journey  by  water  had  been 
monotonous,  but  this,  with  its  discomforts,  was  even 
worse.  Twelve  hours  without  a  halt  over  rolling 
sand-hills,  with  an  occasional  glimpse  of  the  sea 
between  the  dunes.  We  were  all  armed,  the  Arabs 
with  antiquated  rifles  slung  across  their  backs,  and 
their  belts  well  supplied  with  ammunition.  That 
such  precautions  are  very  necessary  here  it  was 
quite  evident,  for  we  passed  several  small  parties 
of  devilish-looking  brigands,  who  would  undoubtedly 
have  molested  us  had  it  not  appeared  to  them  that 
we  were  fairly  well  able  to  protect  ourselves. 

About  sundown  we  arrived  at  an  old  Roman  well, 
which,  judging  by  its  appearance,  had  served  its  pur- 
pose for  many   a  century.     Two  Arabs  who  owned 


24    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

it  were  waiting  there  for  chance  patronage,  so  that 
we  halted,  and  refreshed  both  ourselves  and  the 
animals.  They  gave  us  dates  too,  but  they  were 
no  better  than  those  in  the  island,  and  we  gave 
the  camels  the  doubtful  benefit  of  their  consump- 
tion. I  was  very  interested  to  notice  that  the  rough 
troughs  by  the  well  were  mostly  of  hollowed  date 
palms,  probably  as  ancient  as  the  well  itself  They 
reminded  me  of  the  old  elm  water-pipes  which  are 
sometimes  dug  up  in  London,  for  like  these  the 
date  palm  wood  never  rots. 

We  did  not  halt  for  long,  for  the  sergeant  pointed 
to  the  setting  sun  as  a  reminder  that  we  had  no 
time  to  lose,  and  we  were  soon  off  again  upon  our 
journey.  There  was  no  twilight,  of  course,  and  as 
soon  as  the  sun  went  down  the  only  light  was  that 
of  the  stars,  and  the  pale  crescent  moon  low  down 
in  the  sky.  About  three  hours  after  sunset  we  came 
to  what  appeared  to  be  an  endless  plain.  The  silence 
was  weird,  for  our  camels  made  scarcely  any  sound 
as  their  huge  feet  fell  lightly  upon  the  soft  sand. 
Now  and  again  in  the  distance  we  heard  singing — 
some  hymn  of  praise  to  Allah ;  for  the  Arab,  as  the 
Turk,  is  as  likely  to  forget  his  meals  as  to  omit 
his  devotions  from  his  daily  life. 

With  the  night  came  the  dew,  and,  in  contrast 
to  the  day,  it  was  intensely  cold.  I  was  very  glad 
when,  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  we  reached 
Zwarra  with  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  almost  tragic 
suddenness. 


v 


^m^'%lf — -^^ 


CHAPTER    IV 

ITALIAN   BOMBARDMENT   OF   ZWARRA 

My  impression  of  our  arrival  was  that  a  great  arched 
doorway  seemed  to  swallow  the  camels  one  after 
another,  and  then,  my  turn  coming,  I  passed  through 
into  a  small  courtyard,  where  some  trees  were  grow- 
ing and  several  dark  forms  were  rapidly  unloading 
the  camels. 

My  sergeant  friend  managed  somehow  to  secure 
a  room  for  the  accommodation  of  myself  and  my 
various  luggage.  It  was  not  luxurious,  but  at  least 
it  was  a  shelter.  There  was  no  light  and  there 
was  no  air  available,  excepting  by  leaving  the  door 
open,  for  there  were  no  windows  or  openings  of  any 
sort  or  description. 

Before  I  had  settled  down  someone  was  hospi- 
table enough  to  send  me  some  tea,  for  which  I  was 
very  grateful,  and  in  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the 
hour  I  soon  had  a  number  of  callers.  A  few  of 
them  with  the  only  excuse  of  undisguised  curiosity, 
for  they  simply  peered  round  the  door  to  inspect 
me  and  retired  again  without  saying  a  word.  One 
or  two  Arab  women  paid  me  this  compliment.  One 
of  my  male  visitors  happened  to  know  a  little  French, 
and  we  settled  down  to  a  very  interesting  conversa- 


26    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

tion.  I  managed  to  convey  to  him  who  and  what 
I  was,  and  carefully  represented  to  him  what  great 
people  the  Central  News  were,  from  which  I  got  of 
course  a  little  reflected  glory. 

He  congratulated  me  at  having  got  so  far,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  I  was  a  European,  for  he  told 
me  that  the  Arabs  feel  that  all  Europe  is  against 
them,  and  would  naturally  regard  me  as  an  enemy. 

Whilst  we  were  conversing  a  Turkish  orderly 
presented  himself,  and  he  was  the  first  Turkish 
soldier  I  had  ever  seen.  He  came  to  request  my 
presence  at  headquarters,  for  Zwarra  had  a  garri- 
son, and  was  commanded  by  a  Bimbashi.  I  imme- 
diately followed  my  conductor,  accompanied  by  my 
visitors  and  various  loafers  who  happened  to  be 
awake,  indeed  quite  a  triumphal  procession.  And  so 
we  made  our  way  along  the  silent  street  like  shadows, 
for  the  soft  sand  gives  no  sound  to  the  beat  of  the 
foot.  In  the  darkness  too  I  stumbled  now  and  again 
over  objects,  animate  and  inanimate,  and  finally  we 
plunged  into  the  intense  darkness  of  a  grove  of  date 
palms. 

We  made  our  way  through  this  bewildering  black- 
ness for  a  mile  or  so,  when  we  arrived  at  a  brilliantly 
lighted  building,  where  I  was  at  once  escorted  to  a 
room  in  which  were  seated  about  half  a  dozen  Turkish 
officers.  They  stared  at  me  in  undisguised  aston- 
ishment, and  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  appearance 
could  not  have  given  them  greater  surprise  had  I 
dropped   from   the    clouds.     They   asked    me    to   be 


BOMBARDMENT   OF   ZWARRA        27 

seated,  and  when  I  said  that  I  was  hungry,  they 
fed  me  with  "  oeufs  au  plat,"  excellent  bread,  and 
water  to  drink.  Coffee  followed,  made  as  only  the 
Turks  know  how  to  make  it,  and  some  very  fine 
cigarettes.  I  told  my  story,  and  after  a  conversation, 
which  of  course  I  could  not  entirely  follow,  they 
intimated  to  me,  through  the  orderly,  that  they 
believed  it,  and  that  they  would  wire  to  head- 
quarters at  Tripoli  for  instructions  concerning  me. 

I  retired  to  rest  that  night  very  willingly,  and 
with  bright  hopes  for  the  morrow  ;  but  I  was  just 
dozing  off  into  a  state  of  happy  oblivion  after  my 
tiring  day  when  the  reports  of  two  big  guns,  followed 
by  the  screams  of  shells,  brought  me  up  with  a  jump. 
Almost  as  suddenly  the  room  became  full  of  Arabs 
and  Turks,  gesticulating  and  arguing  in  a  state  of 
the  greatest  excitement. 

Crash !  Bang !  the  deafening  reports  continued 
incessantly. 

The  Italian  bombardment  of  Zwarra  had  begun. 

Hurriedly  dressing,  I  joined,  so  far  as  I  was  able, 
in  the  council  of  war  that  had  been  so  hurriedly 
convened.  Musa  Bimbashi,  the  commander,  perfectly 
cool  and  quiet  amidst  all  the  excitement  of  the  others, 
began  giving  orders  in  a  low  sweet  voice  that  sounded 
almost  lover-like  in  its  modulated  tones.  For  him 
the  welcome  sound  of  the  guns  meant  battle,  for 
there  is  no  Yemen  Arab  who  is  not  a  born  warrior, 
caring  more  for  the  clash  of  steel  and  the  smoke  and 
roar  of  battle  than  anything  else  in  the  wide  world. 


28    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Their  love  of  fighting  is  positively  fanatic,  and  they 
believe  most  sincerely  that  all  their  sins  are  par- 
doned and  cleansed  when  they  lay  down  their  lives 
in  fighting  against  an  enemy  to  their  faith. 

We  sat  down  to  our  consultation,  Musa  taking 
the  chair  at  the  head  of  the  table,  whilst  on  two 
large  Turkish  divans  squatted  cross-legged  a  number 
of  Arabs,  none  of  whom  had  I  seen  before,  but  who 
were  introduced  to  me  as  the  Sheiks  and  notables 
of  the  district.  Before  we  began  each  and  every- 
one placed  his  right  hand  upon  my  heart,  a  motion 
which  I  followed,  as  an  assurance,  it  appeared,  of 
their  acceptance  of  me  as  a  comrade  and  friend. 
Coffee  was  served,  even  under  these  exciting  circum- 
stances, and  a  grand  pow-wow  started  as  to  what 
was  to  be  done.  But  the  firing  eventually  dropped 
as  quickly  as  it  had  begun,  and  for  the  remainder  of 
the  night  we  were  left  in  peace. 

We  were  not  to  be  left  alone  next  morning  though, 
for  quite  early  Tewfik  Effendi,  the  scoutmaster, 
came  dashing  up  upon  a  fine  chestnut  Arab  horse, 
to  report  the  news  that  two  Italian  warships  were 
rapidly  approaching.  The  wailing  notes  of  the  bugles 
sounded  the  assembly,  bringing  all  the  garrison  very 
quickly  to  the  square ;  a  fine,  well-disciplined  body 
of  men  they  were  too,  dressed  in  kharki  and  wearing 
the  kep  or  tarbush,  with  imitation  astrachan  trim- 
mings. The  officers  wore  well-fitting  tunics,  riding- 
breeches  and  putties,  and  were  distinguished  by  six 
gold    stripes    cartwheel   fashion    on    the    top   of  the 


BOMBARDMENT   OF   ZWARRA        29 

tarbush.  Musa,  the  commandant,  looked  very  stately 
and  dis:nified.  The  mask  of  indolent  carelessness 
which  every  oriental  affects,  scarcely  concealed  his 
fiery,  ambitious  and  tempestuous  nature.  The  gleam 
in  his  hawk-like  eye  plainly  denoted  the  autocrat  and 
absolutionist.  A  face  terrible  in  a  way,  but  yet  one 
to  inspire  absolute  trust  and  confidence.  A  magnificent 
friend,  as  I  am  now  proud  to  claim  him  to  be ;  a  very 
bitter  foe,  as  the  Italians  now  know  to  their  cost. 

I  later  realised  why  it  was  that,  severe  ruler  as 
Musa  was,  his  men  were  always  ready  and  willing  in 
their  devotion  to  their  leader  to  do  positively  any- 
thing under  his  command. 

I  watched  the  approach  of  the  warships  with 
interest,  those  colossal  engines  of  destruction,  as  they 
ploughed  their  way  in  ominous  silence  through  the 
blue  water.  The  square  was  rapidly  filling,  as  now 
the  Arab  warriors  arrived,  marshalled  in  some  sort  of 
order  by  their  Sheiks  and  mounted  upon  their  mag- 
nificent Arab  steeds,  whose  silver  and  brilliant  trap- 
pings glittered  and  tinkled  to  the  play  of  those 
lovely  creatures,  children  of  the  desert.  I  found 
them  always  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  family, 
living  as  they  do  with  their  owners  as  domestic  pets. 
I  will  describe  a  typical  Arab  warrior,  a  description 
that  will  fairly  well  serve  for  them  all. 

Sheik  Abdullah  was  mounted  on  a  tall  white 
charger,  the  trappings  and  housings  of  the  Arab  saddle 
being  of  solid  silver.  The  plates  of  the  breast-strap 
give  forth  a  pleasant  music  as  they  clash  in  accompani- 


30    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

ment  to  the  motion  of  the  steed.  Full  of  spirit,  like 
all  the  Arabs,  Abdullah  is  a  master  horseman,  reining 
and  spurring  with  shovel-shaped  stirrups.  The  high- 
spirited  animal  curvets  and  rears  with  blazing  eyes 
and  dilated  nostrils,  as  if  challenging  the  enemy. 
The  Arabs  formed  up  in  their  own  peculiar  manner, 
not  very  regularly,  and  with  much  noise  and  shouting. 
But  the  discipline  of  the  chief  is  soon  brought  to 
bear,  and  they  move  off  in  a  fairly  orderly  body, 
longing  to  meet  the  foe.  What  on  earth  they 
expected  to  do,  armed  with  Mausers  and  with  no 
artillery,  I  cannot  for  the  life  of  me  imagine.  Ridi- 
culous as  it  may  appear  to  be,  these  fierce  warriors 
were  going  off  to  fight  Italy's  battleships  equipped 
only  with  spears  and  rifles. 

"  Voulez-vous  regarder,  monsieur  ?  "  I  turned 
and  found  a  tall,  dark,  handsome  Arab  in  Turkish 
uniform  addressing  me. 

"  Avec  beaucoup  de  plaisir." 

Ali  Effendi,  a  Lieutenant  of  Infantry,  as  I  found 
him  to  be,  then  told  me  that  he  had  orders  to  look 
after  me  and  see  that  I  had  a  good  show  to  report  on 
the  great  valour  and  courage  of  the  Turkish  army. 
Ali  explained  to  me  that  having  to  join  his  company 
would  prevent  him  from  personally  accompanying  me, 
but  that  he  had  provided  an  orderly  to  carry  my 
water-bottle  and  do  any  other  little  devoir ;  also  to 
take  me  to  some  position  where  I  could  get  a  good 
view  of  the  combat. 

I  found  that  the  Italians  were  expected  to  land, 


BOMBARDMENT   OF   ZWARRA        31 

eat  up  all  the  poor  defenders,  and  camp  that  day  in 
our  quarters. 

I  set  off  accordingly  towards  a  small  blockhouse 
or  marabout  just  about  three  miles  away.  The  battle- 
ships remained  stationary,  firing  a  few  wretchedly 
placed  shells  at  the  building  for  which  we  were 
making.  And  as  we  drew  near,  with  a  shout  of 
"  Allah  Ackbar,"  the  Arab  battle-cry,  there  came 
rushing  a  shouting  multitude,  utterly  regardless  of 
the  shells,  to  the  poor  shelter  of  the  blockhouse.  I 
very  soon  caught  the  infection  of  excitement  and  ran 
with  the  crowd,  wondering  what  would  happen,  but 
indeed  nothing  very  terrible  took  place.  The  hillside 
seemed  to  blossom  with  Arabs,  all  squatting  down 
so  closely  and  crowded  together  with  their  rifles  in 
hand,  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  walk  along  without 
stepping  upon  them. 

We  waited  and  watched  the  ships  deliberately 
steaming  round,  evidently  trying  to  reconnoitre  the 
position  of  the  small  harbour  which  this  cape  guarded. 

Why  they  did  not  blow  the  whole  lot  of  us  into 
eternity  was  then,  and  ever  will  be,  a  marvel  to  me. 
To  my  intense  relief,  and  the  intense  disappoint- 
ment of  my  companions,  they  then  steamed  away  to 
Tripoli. 

I  so  soon  became  accepted  as  one  of  themselves 
that  as  we  sat  down  in  friendly  council  I  pointed  out 
to  them  that  this  method  of  attack  would  never  do. 
I  spoke  most  feelingly  on  the  subject,  and  they  were 
very  anxious  to  get  my  meaning.     Doubling  up  my 


32    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

two  fists,  I  tried  to  make  them  miderstand  that 
should  a  big  shell  drop  into  the  closely-packed  mob, 
we  should  all  be  morts.  Sheik  Sultan  through  an 
interpreter  wanted  to  know  what  it  was  that  I  so 
strongly  advised. 

I  made  a  number  of  holes  in  the  sand,  and  so  got 
him  to  understand  that  separately,  should  the  bomb 
come,  only  two  or  three  could  possibly  be  hit,  but 
that  if  a  shell  fell  into  a  crowd  of  them  the  result 
would  be  terrible  in  the  extreme. 

To  this  the  Sheik  said,  "Very  good,  but  the 
Arabs  don't  fight  like  that." 

So  ended  the  first  of  a  long  term  of  bombardments. 
Zwarra  is  a  big  important  town,  as  the  chief  caravan 
route  passes  through  it  on  the  way  to  Tripoli ;  more- 
over, it  is  the  first  of  a  great  number  of  water-bearing 
oases,  so  welcome  and  refreshing  in  a  desert  journey. 

It  could  not  only  be  defended  by  land,  but  the 
guns  of  the  ships  could  keep  the  Arabs  at  a  re- 
spectful distance ;  at  least,  so  the  Italians  thought 
at  the  time  w4ien  they  began  the  conflict. 

After  this  little  excitement  we  got  a  respite  and 
a  few  days  of  social  life,  and  I  got  to  know  something 
of  my  friends.  The  barracks  face  the  sea,  but  they 
are  partially  concealed  by  groves  of  date  palms,  whilst 
a  barrier  of  sand-hills  make  a  most  efiicient  defence 
against  an  attack  from  that  direction,  afibrding  as  it 
does  the  most  perfect  cover  from  shells.  The  thick 
tops  of  the  palm  trees,  too,  give  some  protection 
against  the  most  deadly  shell  of  all,  the  shrapnel. 


BOMBARDMENT   OF   ZWARRA         33 

Every  Arab  town  has  its  bazaar  or  bargaining 
centre.  "  I  want  to  make  bazaar  "  is  a  most  common 
expression,  meaning  of  course  to  deal  or  to  bargain. 

This  important  centre  has  its  cafe,  where  the 
latest  news  is  earnestly  discussed.  In  the  afternoon 
I  wended  my  way  through  the  winding  main  street 
in  company  with  Ali  Effendi  and  two  other  Turkish 
officers.  On  the  shady  side  of  the  little  square  sat 
Musa  Bimbashi,  together  with  various  notables  and 
officers,  whilst  Achmet,  the  coffee-maker,  made  his 
round  serving  coffee  from  his  small  long-handled  pan ; 
and  a  crowd  of  beggars  and  Arabs  of  all  descriptions 
formed  an  admiring  circle  around  this  central  figure, 
for  the  autocratic  Musa  likes  to  see  all  his  subjects 
about  him,  and  they  certainly  have  to  "  toe  the  line  " 
when  he  is  anywhere  around. 

These  pleasant  afternoons  were  spoilt  by  the 
reappearance  of  the  Italian  men-of-war,  and  they 
anchored  right  opposite  the  headquarters,  as  if 
determined  to  keep  us  on  the  qui  vive.  The  bom- 
bardment beofan  aa:ain,  sendino;  shells  at  all  hours 
of  the  day  until  our  house  became  quite  uninhabit- 
able, and  we  had  to  spend  our  time  down  amongst 
the  sand  dunes.  This  was  all  right  and  very  jolly 
for  a  short  time,  but  it  became  monotonous,  for  the 
only  recreation  was  when  the  guns  ceased  firing  ;  and 
we  would  creep  up,  well  screened  by  bushes  and  date 
trees,  to  have  a  look  at  the  ships,  wondering  when 
our  punishment  would  be  finished  for  the  day. 

Looking  back  now,  I  really  marvel  at  the  chances 


34    TWO  YEAKS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

we  took,  returning  at  night  to  sleep  in  the  shell- 
battered  rooms,  and  not  leaving  them  in  the  morning 
until  the  warning  shells  hissed  and  screamed  over 
the  barrack  square.  Rain  we  had  too,  and  plenty 
of  it.  This  added  to  the  misery  of  it  all.  Nights 
spent  in  the  trenches  under  such  conditions  represent 
about  the  lowest  depths  of  physical  misery  that  I 
can  possibly  imagine. 


CHAPTER   V 

SHELL  DODGING 

Nothing  surprised  me  more  than  the  complete  and 
absolute  disregard  of  danger  which  was  displayed  by 
my  companions,  and  their  undisguised  and  profound 
contempt  for  the  enemy.  They  were  always  longing 
for  the  Italians  to  land  some  troops,  and  have  a  chance 
of  a  fight,  and  they  did  all  that  they  possibly  could 
to  lure  them  into  doing  so.  Whatever  may  have 
induced  the  Italians  to  hold  back,  it  is  certain  that 
the  Arabs  and  the  Turks  put  one  construction,  and 
one  construction  only,  upon  their  reticence,  and  that 
was  sheer  funk  and  arrant  cowardice. 

"  They  are  not  men — they  are  not  soldiers  ;  they 
can  only  fight  children."  "  They  *are  timid,  and 
more  timid  than  sheep."  These  and  many  similar  re- 
marks expressed  the  intensity  of  their  feeling  in  the 
matter. 

They  wanted  a  show ;  they  wanted  some  excite- 
ment, and  were  spoiling  for  a  fight — the  thicker  the 
better. 

One  morning  when  I  was  sitting  in  the  sand  dunes, 
in  the  midst  of  my  monotonous  day-dreams,  I  heard 
the  sharp  crackling  of  rifle-shots.  For  a  moment 
I  thought  that  my  friends  had  at  last  succeeded  in 

35 


36    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

luring  their  prey  to  land,  and  as  quickly  as  I  could 
I  began  crawling  through  the  sparse  scrub  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound  of  the  firing.  There  in  front  of 
me,  with  the  shrapnel  shells  literally  falling  like  hail, 
and  bursting  in  all  directions,  I  could  scarcely  realise 
the  scene  that  met  my  astonished  gaze. 

In  the  hottest  spot  of  any  three  fearless  Arab 
warriors  had  set  up  a  target,  and  were  having  a 
shooting  competition,  like  a  miniature  Bisley.  Care- 
fully and  deliberately  taking  aim  at  their  target,  with 
shouts  of  pleasure  when  they  scored,  and  the  shells 
bursting  all  around  them,  they  themselves  were  all 
the  time  the  target  of  the  Italian  gunners. 

Their  Sheik — Sheik  Zittan — noticed  me,  and  came 
laughingly  towards  me.  He  said  that  his  men  were 
excited,  and  found  it  so  unendurably  slow  with 
nothing  to  do,  that  they  had  to  give  vent  to  some  of 
their  superfluous  energy  by  shooting  at  something, 
whatever  it  might  be.  We  were  fairly  well  sheltered 
where  we  were  squatting,  so  that  I  took  out  my 
pipe  and  filled  it,  but  could  not  get  a  light,  as  the 
wind  was  so  high. 

The  Sheik,  seeing  my  difficulty,  called  to  one  of 
his  men,  and  pointing  to  the  case  of  a  shrapnel  which 
had  just  exploded,  he  said  : 

"  Bring  it  here,  oh  my  son." 

The  man  brought  it  along,  still  hot  from  its  dis- 
charge, and,  holding  it  to  shield  my  pipe  from  the 
wind,  he  said : 

"  Now,  father,  light  your  pipe." 


SHELL   DODGING  37 

The  firing  soon  became  hotter  still,  for  two  more 
cruisers  arrived,  with  the  evident  intention  of  bat- 
tering the  town  down  about  our  ears. 

This  time  the  principal  fire  was  directed  against 
the  residence  of  Musa  Bey  and  the  officers'  houses. 
Musa's  home,  standing  high,  soon  crumbled  under  the 
nine-inch  shells,  and  that  of  Captain  Hassan  followed. 
The  pathetic  part  of  it  was  that  the  women  and 
children  were  in  the  houses  at  the  time.  It  came  as 
a  shock  to  us  all  to  feel  that  the  women  and  children 
were  not  safe.  Poor  Musa  stuck  to  his  duty  in  the 
trenches  watching  the  destruction  of  his  home.  The 
terrible  anxiety  of  the  man  was  painful  to  see.  The 
orderly  who  was  sent  off  to  find  out  the  extent  of 
the  damage  took  nearly  three  hours  to  cover  a  few 
thousand  yards,  crawling  and  creeping  along  through 
a  perfect  hurricane  of  bursting  shells.  The  ladies 
fortunately,  however,  escaped,  though  naturally  very 
frightened.  The  condition  of  poor  Musa's  wife  at 
the  time  was  such  that  the  terrible  shock  brought 
on  very  serious  complications,  from  which,  however, 
she  happily  recovered  eventually. 

One  night  about  this  time  Musa  Bey  said  to  me  : 
"Would  you  like  a  ride  with  me  to  Rigdalene  ?  I 
want  to  go  to  visit  my  wife,  who  is  unwell,  and  also 
others  who  are  sick,  and  who  are  in  charge  of  Hakim 
Demetrius." 

I  jumped  at  the  offer,  for  I  was  getting  somewhat 
weary  of  Zwarra  and  its  perpetual  bombardment. 

The  horses  were  brought  round  about  eight  o'clock. 


SS    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

It  was  already  dark,  but  the  sky  gleamed  with  stars, 
which  gave  us  quite  sufficient  light  for  our  purpose, 
whilst  fortunately  there  was  not  enough  for  our 
movements  to  be  detected  by  the  night-glasses  of  the 
cruisers. 

Escorted  by  Tewfik  Effendi  and  four  zeptlrs,  or 
gens  d'armes,  we  started  off  for  the  open  desert  at 
the  back  of  Zwarra.  The  night  air  was  still  and 
heavy  with  perfume.  The  aromatic  desert  herbs  are 
always  fragrant,  but  on  this  particular  night  the 
perfume  was  delightful  in  consequence  of  recent 
heavy  rains.  Before  we  had  proceeded  very  far 
upon  our  journey  the  moon  arose,  a  great  yellow 
disc  in  a  purple  sky,  enabling  us  to  travel  more 
quickly  and  with  greater  confidence. 

About  midway  between  ZwaiTa  and  Rigdalen^ 
the  road  runs  between  two  high  sand  drifts,  conical 
in  shape,  whilst  at  the  back  of  them,  on  either  side, 
there  are  a  number  of  neglected  gardens.  As  we 
passed  along  this  broad  defile  there  was  suddenly 
the  flash  of  a  rifle  ahead,  and  a  bullet  or  two  sang 
over  our  heads.  We  pulled  up  sharply,  and  Tewfik 
with  his  zeptirs  were  ordered  to  ride  ahead  and 
investigate  the  matter,  whilst  Bimbashi  Musa 
followed  more  slowly.  At  some  distance  we  came 
upon  an  innocent-looking  caravan  of  camels  striding 
like  deformed  shadows  ahead  of  us  in  the  misty 
moonlight.  The  zeptirs  or  gendarmerie  had  arrested 
the  drivers,  and  they  were  bringing  them  back  for  the 
inspection  and  interrogation  of  Musa. 


SHELL   DODGING  39 

"  Bid  you  fire  that  rifle  ?  "  he  asked  sternly  of  one 
of  them  who  was  carrying  a  long  gun. 

"  No,  by  Allah,  I  did  not ! "  he  protested  solemnly. 

Turning  to  a  zeptir,  Musa  said,  "  Take  his  rifle 
and  smell  the  muzzle."  The  man  did  so,  and  then 
handed  it  up  to  Musa.  The  smell  of  it  immediately 
proved  beyond  question  that  it  had  been  recently 
discharged. 

If  there  is  one  thing  the  Arabs  love,  it  is  powder- 
play  in  any  shape  or  form.  He  must  fire  his  rifle 
whenever  he  can,  at  anything  or  nothing.  Now 
firing  rifles  at  night  in  any  country  in  war  time, 
where  of  course  martial  law  has  been  proclaimed, 
is  a  most  heinous  offence.  No  one  can  tell  whether 
it  is  a  friend  or  a  foe,  and  serious  fights  have  often 
taken  place  between  parties  of  friends,  each  having 
mistaken  the  other  party  for  foes.  Musa  was  a  strict 
disciplinarian,  and  having  repeatedly  given  the  most 
positive  orders  that  this  practice  was  to  be  stopped, 
he  was  furious,  both  at  the  offence  and  the  aggra- 
vation by  the  man's  emphatic  denial. 

I  shall  not  forget  the  men's  frenzied  prayers  for 
pardon,  nor  Musa's  stern,  relentless  face,  as  he  for- 
feited the  guns  and  personally  chastised — none  too 
lightly — the  Arabs  with  his  riding-whip.  We  had 
no  further  encounters,  and  soon  rode  through  the 
arched  door  of  the  Fonduk,  which  is  now  used  as  a 
hospital.  We  were  welcomed  with  enthusiasm,  ac- 
commodated with  rugs  and  pillows,  and  regaled  with 
tea,  coffee,  and  cigarettes.     To  me  it  was  a  most  de- 


40  TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

lightful  time,  for  although  I  could  understand  scarcely 
a  word  of  what  was  said,  the  romance  of  the  scene 
quite  captivated  me.  The  domed,  dungeon-like 
chamber  was  lighted  by  oil  lamps,  which  threw  into 
strong  relief  the  general  furniture,  the  saddle-packs, 
and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  war.  Outside  in  the 
courtyard  an  emerald  moonlight  bathed  everything 
in  a  soft  mystery.  The  sleeping  Arabs  in  their  white 
robes,  their  horses  standing  drowsing  after  a  full 
meal,  whilst  the  orange  glow  of  a  watch-fire  warmed 
the  surrounding  shadows. 

Over  the  white  walls  the  tall  head  of  a  solitary 
palm  tree  showed  against  the  purple  sky  like  a 
sentinel,  each  delicate  leaf  with  the  clearness  of 
a  silhouette.  I  reclined  comfortably  against  soft 
cushions,  feasting  my  eyes  on  this  dream-like  pic- 
ture of  Oriental  life. 

Later  on  I  enjoyed  the  soundest  sleep,  once  more 
untroubled  by  the  hungry  boom  of  guns.  The  beauty 
of  the  scene,  however,  changed  somewhat  in  the 
searching  light  of  day.  It  revealed  much  squalor 
and  filth,  but  it  was  picturesque  still  in  spite  of 
it.  I  felt  hungry,  but,  Arab  fiashion,  we  stanched 
our  appetites  with  the  thick  aromatic  coffee  of  the 
East  and  the  inevitable  cigarette. 

Starting  on  our  homeward  journey,  we  rode  slowly 
along  until  the  boom  of  heavy  guns  reached  our 
ears  once  more,  and  the  smoke  and  dust  of  bursting 
shells  half  hid  the  town  of  Zwarra  from  our  view. 
The  shells  were  bounding  over  the  sand,  falling  miles 


SHELL   DODGING  41 

inland.  The  soft  sand  preserves  their  life  frequently, 
for  very  many  failed  to  explode.  Avoiding  these 
unwelcome  visitors  by  making  a  long  detour,  we 
eventually  reached  Zwarra  by  the  lower  caravan  track, 
down  amongst  the  dunes,  where  the  remainder  of 
the  day  and  the  whole  of  the  following  night  were 
spent,  crouching  among  sandhills  and  scrub,  with 
never  a  particle  of  food  for  four-and-twenty  hours. 

The  following  day  two  Turkish  deputies  arrived 
from  Ain  Zara.  One  had  been  preaching  the  Jehad 
to  the  Arab  contincrents ;  the  other  one  came  for 
the  purpose  of  carrying  back  to  the  authorities  at 
Stamboul  a  fViithful  report  of  the  general  situation, 
and  the  condition  of  things  generally.  They  had 
been  in  the  saddle  for  twelve  hours,  and  appeared 
to  be  so  exhausted  that  they  were  almost  too  tired 
to  talk  with  me.  They  expressed  their  intention 
of  resting  in  bed  all  the  day,  and  then  riding  at 
night  to  Ben  Gardane.  But  they  had  little  rest 
that  day,  as  before  they  had  retired  to  bed  in  the 
rooms  at  the  barracks,  which  had  been  placed  at 
their  disposal,  the  Italian  cruisers  opened  fire  upon 
the  building. 

To  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  headquarters, 
I  may  describe  the  barracks  as  a  long,  one-storied 
building,  standing  in  a  small  compound.  The  front 
of  the  building  faces  the  sea,  and  is  entered  by  a 
gateway  over  which  stands  the  flagstaff,  upon  which 
the  Crescent  floats  bravely.  Two  old-fashioned 
lanterns,    very    similar    in    appearance,    which    were 


42    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

probably  at  one  time  used  as  stern  lights  in  an 
old  ship  of  the  line  in  the  days  of  Lord  Nelson, 
adorn  the  pillars  on  either  side. 

Tall  date  palms  shaded  the  compound  from  the 
sun.  A  short  paved  path  leads  to  the  terrace,  which 
runs  the  whole  length  of  the  face  of  the  building. 
At  either  end  the  house  is  entered  by  means  of  an 
arched  doorway.  My  room  was  on  the  south  side, 
whilst  the  room  occupied  by  the  officers  and  the  two 
guests  was  situated  at  the  opposite  end.  There  was 
great  scurrying  as  the  shells  began  bursting  over- 
head, officers  running,  buckling  on  their  swords 
as  they  ran,  in  their  anxiety  to  get  the  men  out  of 
the  barracks  down  to  the  trenches.  The  wearied 
deputies  turned  out  with  alacrity,  and  as  Ali  Effendi 
came  rushing  towards  me,  together  we  bolted  out  of 
the  room,  and  ran  along  the  front  just  as  a  shrapnel 
burst  amongst  the  branches  of  the  tall  date  tree. 
Down  came  clattering  bullets  on  the  corrugated  roof, 
whilst  some  of  them  knocked  the  plaster  off  the  front 
of  the  building.  Ali  stumbled  and  fell  against  the 
wall,  and  for  a  moment  I  thought  that  he  was  done 
for.  But  he  was  up  again  in  a  moment,  and  together 
we  had  just  reached  the  doorway  of  the  opposite  room 
when  a  big  shell  struck  the  chamber  which  I  had  left 
a  quarter  of  a  minute  previously.  The  Italians  seemed 
determined  to  shatter  the  place,  for  there  had  never 
before  been  such  a  perfect  hurricane  of  shells.  We 
made  our  way  by  a  long  detour  through  the  palm 
grove   to    the   north,    to   reach    the    shelter   of    the 


SHELL  DODGING  43 

trenches.  I  can  hardly  describe  my  sensations  as 
I  watched  this  most  destructive  of  all  the  attacks. 
It  seemed  strange  to  me  too,  that  the  report  of  the 
shell  exploding  like  a  soft,  well-modulated  voice,  could 
be  heard  actually  before  the  sound  of  the  gun.  There 
were  the  elements  of  comedy  too  in  the  undignified 
scramble  which  we  had  to  make. 

One  takes  it  as  a  matter  of  course  after  a  few 
days'  pounding,  as  one  carcely  realises  that  dangers 
and  death  lurk  in  the  innocent,  parachute-like  puff 
of  smoke,  like  the  lightest  of  summer  clouds.  Our 
losses  were  small ;  indeed  no  one  was  actually  killed, 
and  only  a  few  decorated,  as  they  always  describe 
being  wounded.  One  officer  had  a  very  narrow 
escape,  a  shrapnel  bullet  going  down  through  the 
lining  of  his  coat  and  harmlessly  finding  a  resting- 
place  in  the  pocket.  The  Italian  fire  was  very  bad 
indeed.  The  horses  and  camels  were  placed  in  a 
small  hollow,  about  one  hundred  yards  to  the  west 
of  the  headquarters,  and  although  shells  were  burst- 
ing close  to  them  the  only  damage  was  done  to  the 
trees,  and  none  of  the  beasts  were  hit  at  all,  although 
the  bombardment  practically  lasted  the  whole  day. 

I  must  not  leave  my  experiences  of  Zwarra 
without  some  reference  to  the  Club,  which  I  some- 
times visited  there.  The  Turks  are  a  clubable, 
sociable  people  wherever  they  are,  and  it  is  customary 
to  have  a  rendezvous  place  whatever  little  convenience 
there  may  be.  Perhaps  it  is  a  close  stuffy  room,  or 
better  still,  as  here,  on  the  shady  side  of  the  square  in 


44    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  open  air.  The  square  is  irregular,  and  the  houses 
follow  its  contour. 

Some  of  the  buildings  rejoice  in  a  stoep,  much 
broken  as  a  rule ;  others  stand  level  with  the 
ground.  It  was  one  of  the  better  kind  with  the 
stoep  that  formed  the  meeting-place  of  the  Circle, 
as  we  called  it  at  Zwarra.  Here,  on  most  after- 
noons, Musa  and  his  staff  met,  surrounded  to 
suffocation  by  a  crowd  of  worshippers,  for  Musa 
Mahomet  was  little  short  of  an  idol.  There  he 
drank  his  coffee  and  spent  the  rest  of  the  day- 
discussing  the  events  of  the  time.  Excellent  coffee 
it  was,  too,  and  cost  a  halfpenny  a  cup.  Sometimes 
he  paid  the  Arab  story-teller  to  tell  us  some  Oriental 
romance,  which  used  to  remind  me  of  Sinbad  in  the 
Ai^abian  Nights.  Story-telling  is  a  profession,  and  a 
lucrative  profession  here.  The  tales  he  told  I  cannot 
repeat,  because  of  my  inability  to  follow  all  that  he 
told  us,  but  that  they  were  of  fascinating  interest 
was  obvious  from  the  rapt  attention  with  which 
they  were  followed,  and  the  hearty  laughter  which 
followed  the  amusing  portions  of  the  narrative. 

When  the  Italian  cruisers  gave  us  a  few  holidays 
the  bazaar  was  crowded,  and  Mahomet,  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  cafe,  became  in  great  form,  for  business 
was  good,  as  in  old  times  before  the  war.  One 
afternoon  we  were  all  sitting  on  the  shady  side  of 
the  square,  when  an  Arab  came  up  carrying  a  six- 
inch  live  shell  which  he  had  recovered  from  the 
desert,  and  which  he  was  anxious  to  sell. 


SHELL   DODGING  45 

The  way  he  banged  it  down  before  us  gave  me 
a  start,  for  you  can  be  at  too  close  quarters  when 
a  shell  explosion  takes  place.  But  no  particular 
notice  was  taken  by  the  others  until  I  explained 
the  danger  of  handling  live  shells  so  carelessly. 
Musa  and  the  other  officers  were  very  curious  to 
know  what  was  inside,  whereupon  the  Arab  kindly 
volunteered  to  take  the  fuse  out  with  a  cork- 
screw !  This  was  a  great  deal  too  much  for  me,  so 
that  I  arose  to  go,  explaining  that  I  had  no  wish 
to  continue  my  journey  in  a  vertical  direction,  and 
that  I  was  not  going  to  risk  my  life  in  watching 
the  operation.  I  then  gave  them  a  little  lecture  on 
the  component  parts,  explaining  them  by  means  of 
a  diagram — the  amount  and  position  of  the  explo- 
sive, the  position  and  action  of  the  fuse,  and  so  on. 
Tewfik  Elfendi,  an  artillery  officer,  came  up  at  the 
moment  and  at  once  confirmed  all  that  I  had  said. 
Then  I  advised  the  owner  of  the  deadly  trophy  to 
go  and  bury  it.  Whether  he  acted  on  my  advice 
or  whether  it  wafted  him  to  paradise  I  don't  know, 
but  the  last  I  saw  of  him  was  as  he  went  staggering 
off  under  its  weight,  surrounded  and  followed  by  a 
crowd  of  curious  Arabs. 

I  could  write  a  great  deal  more  of  Zwarra,  its 
beauties  and  its  antiquities,  but  I  must  hurry  on 
to  tell  of  the  more  serious  and  more  interesting  and 
exciting  fighting  at  Tripoli. 


CHAPTER  VI 

I  GO  ON   TO   TRIPOLI 

I  LEFT  Zwarra  with  many  regrets.  During  the  few 
short  weeks  that  I  had  spent  there  I  had  made 
lifelong  friendships  with  both  Arabs  and  Turks, 
friendships  which  I  shall  always  highly  value.  On 
the  2oth  October  a  telegram  arrived  from  General 
Neshet  giving  me  permission  to  join  him  at  the 
Quartier  Generale,  and  I  lost  no  time  in  setting  off. 

The  journey  there,  through  the  oasis,  was  perhaps 
the  most  interesting  that  I  ever  experienced.  As  I 
previously  mentioned,  Zwarra  is  the  beginning  of 
a  string  of  oases  along  the  principal  caravan  route 
leading  to  Tripoli.  Like  all  Tripolitaine,  the  roads 
are  mere  tracks,  depending  upon  the  whim  of  the 
camels,  each  season  new  deviations  being  mapped  out 
according  to  the  herbage,  which  the  animal  makes 
whilst  snapping  at  bushes  and  scrub  en  passant. 

These  roads,  although  fairly  well  guarded  now, 
were  at  that  time  infested  with  many  small  bands 
of  loafer  Arabs,  who  are  not  altogether  the  most 
desirable  people  to  encounter.  Along  the  highway  to 
Agelah  is  one  especially  desolate  part,  ideally  situated 
for  the  operations  of  these  knights  of  the  road.  Mid- 
way it  is  marked  by  an  ancient  Roman  well,  which  has 

46 


I    GO    ON   TO   TRIPOLI  47 

never  been  repaired  in  any  way  since   the  time  the 
Eagles    of   that    Empire    halted    there.     We    rested 
during  the  heat  of  the  day  at  this  place.     The  camels 
browsed    on  a  few   tufts   of  esparto  grass,   and    the 
Arabs  and  I  refreshed  ourselves  with  a  drink  of  the 
cool  water.     My  Arab  guard,  a  youth  of  fourteen  or 
fifteen  years  of  age,  unwound  his  waist-belt  and  tied 
one  end  of  it  to  an  amphora,  which  he  lowered  into 
the  cool  dark  depths.     I  imagined  that  I  could  see  the 
Roman  hosts  performing  the  same  duties,  in  the  same 
manner  and  at  the  same  spot,  thousands  of  years  earlier. 
I  was  travelling  along  the  same  road  that  they 
traversed  then,  and  with  only  the  same  methods  of 
transportation.     After  the  noontide  heat  had  some- 
what subsided,  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
we  made  another  start.     Old  Salim,  my  henchman, 
seemed  uneasy  at  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  for  he  said 
that  the  loafer  Arabs  lived  on  this  road,  and  only 
a  day   or   two    previously   they   had   plundered   and 
murdered  a  party  of  Tunis  merchants. 

I  did  not  pay  much  attention,  knowing  poor  old 
Salim's  nervousness  at  sundown.  However,  we  did 
notice  a  band  of  four  Arabs  about  two  thousand  yards 
ofi",  keeping  pace  with  our  caravan,  and  undoubtedly 
prevented  from  attacking  us  by  the  fact  that  Salim 
and  myself  were  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  Turkish 
soldiers,  and  in  addition  to  that  we  had  one  soldier 
with  us  as  a  guard.  Salim  warned  me  to  look  out, 
whilst  the  escort  loaded  his  Mauser,  and  stepped 
boldly  up  to  the  Arab  band. 


48    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

They  then  retired,  thinking  perhaps  that  dis- 
cretion was  the  better  part  of  valour.  Agelah  is 
supposed  to  be  eight  hours  by  camel — six  upon 
horseback — but  somehow  camels  never  seem  to  get 
up  to  more  than  2^  kilometres  an  hour,  and  very 
often  less  than  that,  unless  kept  going  at  their  best 
by  the  continual  bullying  of  the  drivers.  At  night 
too  the  pace  seems  to  be  less. 

The  outskirts  of  the  oasis  extend  for  miles,  and 
one  seems  never  to  reach  the  end  of  them. 

About  ten  o'clock  the  tired  beasts  landed  us 
at  the  great  gate  of  the  post.  After  a  good 
Turkish  meal,  we  speedily  forgot  the  fatigue  of 
the  long  march.  The  limitation  of  space  does  not 
allow  me  to  dwell  on  the  beauties  of  Agelah,  a 
straggling  village  half  hidden  by  thickets  of  fruit  trees 
and  shaded  by  tall  palms.  Mud  walls,  crowned  with 
cactus,  divide  the  various  gardens  and  effectually 
prevent  the  depredations  of  stray  cattle,  or  of 
prowling  robbers.  These  cactus  hedges  are  a  brilliant 
feature  in  the  landscape.  The  thick  leaves  are 
fringed,  just  at  that  time  of  the  year,  with  brilliant 
sun-dyed  yellow,  later  the  rosy  fruit  make  a  most 
effective  pompon  edging. 

I  must  say  a  word  of  thanks  to  the  kindly  Kaim- 
akhan,  one  of  the  best-looking  Arab  gentlemen  I 
ever  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting. 

I  threw  myself  on  the  cement  floor  and  was  soon 
lost  to  all  mundane  affairs  in  the  sweetest  sleep  that 
I  ever  enjoyed,  whilst  my  companions,  the   Turkish 


I   GO   ON   TO   TRIPOLI  49 

officers,  waited  with  stoical  patience  for  the  serving 
of  supper.  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  a 
short  sleep,  knowing  as  I  did  that  the  fish  forming 
the  repast  had  yet  to  be  caught ! 

Time  is  nothing — of  no  value,  of  no  consequence — 
in  this  serene  country  of  Tripoli. 

The  Turkish  officers  talked  after  our  supper  about 
the  necessity  of  reaching  headquarters  without  delay. 

"  We  shall  ride  through  the  night,"  they  said, 
"  if  you  don't  mind  coming  along  with  the  camels." 

"All  right,"  I  replied  laughingly.  "You  go  on 
and  give  my  respects  to  the  Commander-in-Chief." 

They  certainly  did  start  off  about  half  an  hour 
ahead  of  me,  vanishing  down  the  broad  sandy  dunes 
in  a  cloud  of  dust ;  but  at  Surman  I  heard  of  them 
only  one  hour  ahead  of  me,  and  my  pace  was  about 
2J  miles  an  hour.     Certainly  not  more. 

The  rate  of  travel  here  is  counted  by  hours, 
regulated  by  the  camel  or  snail  pace.  So  many  hours 
to  this  place  or  that,  they  tell  you.  The  horse  is 
supposed  to  make  five  to  six  miles  an  hour  ;  but  the 
Arab  is  liberal  in  his  ideas  of  mileage,  and  you  can 
safely  add  a  couple  of  hours  to  any  journey  that  they 
estimate  for  you. 

To  lovers  of  nature  and  of  the  picturesque  such 
a  journey  as  this  must  very  strongly  appeal.  The 
stretch  of  oasis  may  be  compared  to  a  string  of 
emeralds.  The  green  beauty  is  so  restful  to  the  eye 
and  mind,  that  one  never  wearies  of  gazing  at  the 
smooth  lawns  and  park-like  vistas.    The  heavy  dark 

D 


50    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

green  foliage  of  the  fig  tree,  interspersed  with  the 
vivid  scarlet  blooms  and  brighter  greens  of  the 
pomegranate,  mulberries,  purple  and  white,  shade  the 
draw-wells  and  carpets  of  vivid  halfa  and  other 
garden  products,  softened  in  the  near  distance,  as 
with  a  veil,  by  the  grey-green  of  the  semi-transparent 
olive. 

It  all  makes  an  ideal  background  for  the  sym- 
metrical figure  of  the  graceful,  gaudily-dressed  Arab 
maidens,  flitting  from  shade  to  sunshine  like  brilliant 
tropical  birds.  The  tranquil  scene  is  further  sancti- 
fied by  the  musical  notes  of  the  mating  dove,  whilst 
the  bracing  effect  of  the  pure  desert  air,  borne  on  the 
breeze  and  blended  with  the  ozone  of  the  sea,  make 
for  those  in  search  of  rest  and  peace  an  ideal  paradise. 
The  spell  will  soon  be  broken  under  the  stress  of 
mechanical  utility.  Another,  and  one  of  the  last  of 
God's  earthly  sanctuaries,  will  be  destroyed,  but  it  is 
doubtful  if  it  will  add  anything  to  human  happiness. 

These  my  day-dreams  were  rudely  destroyed  by 
the  camel  putting  his  longileg  down  a  hole  in  the  road- 
way, which  it  appears  was  the  chimney  of  an  under- 
ground house  ;  for  here  the  native  burrows  abound  in 
the  crumbling  set  of  a  limestone  ridge  which  crosses 
the  road.  Who  were  this  strange  people,  these  trog- 
lodytes, who  fashioned  these  subterranean  houses? 
They  are  still  inhabited,  and  simply  furnished.  A 
few  pots  and  pans  and  a  little  bedding  satisfy  the 
primitive  needs  of  this  colony  of  cave  dwellers. 

We  entered  the  outskirts  of  the  important  oasis  of 


I   GO   ON   TO   TRIPOLI  51 

Zarwia,  generally  rich  in  tobacco  plantations,  now 
entirely  neglected.  Through  repeated  natural  beauties 
a  narrow  lane  heralds  our  approach  to  the  village. 
Hedges  of  cactus  contract  the  view,  and  would  be  im- 
passable were  it  not  for  the  utilitarian  camel  literally 
eating  our  way  through,  owing  to  the  economical  habits 
of  this  beast,  who  dines  as  he  walks  along.  The 
growth  is  thus  kept  to  its  proper  dimensions,  and  the 
hedges  trimmed  as  if  by  careful  gardeners. 

The  bazaar,  which  you  suddenly  stumble  over,  is 
the  most  important  in  the  district.  Small  booths 
shelter  the  dry  goods  merchants  and  their  wares, 
whilst  a  venerable  mulberry  tree  shades  the  vegetable 
market,  the  workers  in  iron  and  brass,  the  industrial 
units  of  the  community,  being  relegated  to  the  mercy 
of  the  blazing  sun. 

The  stalls  or  shops  occupy  three  sides  of  the 
square.  The  fourth  towers  by  proportion,  and  consists 
of  the  Kaserne,  or  public  building.  A  huge  arched 
gate  gives  entrance  to  a  compound  and  barracks  ; 
the  prison,  and  all  the  buildings  connected  with 
officialdom,  rest  securely  under  these  mighty  walls. 

A  room  upstairs  accommodated  me  and  my  belong- 
ings, where  I  found  to  my  surprise  my  friends,  the 
"riders  through  the  night."  No  explanations  were 
offered,  so  that  I  did  not  ask  for  any.  We  just  sat 
down  and  had  our  coffee  together  most  amicably. 

The  conversation  was  most  speculative,  mostly  of 
course  upon  warlike  subjects,  for  the  guns  could  be 
heard  continuously  and  distinctly. 


52    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Next  morning  we  all  started  again  as  before,  and 
I  was  left  to  pursue  my  journey  in  solitude.  At 
Zanzur  we  met  again.  The  flashes  of  the  Italian 
projections  for  some  reason  caused  a  deal  of  merri- 
ment amongst  the  camel  men.  They  seem  unable 
to  realise  the  utility  and  the  power  of  modern 
inventions.  Everyone  was  glibly  talking  of  the  re- 
taking of  Tripoli  with  rifles  and  swords,  of  what  loot 
they  would  get,  and  how  the  warriors  had  all  come 
to  get  an  Italian  rifle  to  carry  back  to  their  homes. 
At  this  place  the  real  business  had  begun  before  I 
started.  I  had  to  inspect  and  photograph  the  Zanzur 
contingent  (reserves) ;  a  fine  fierce  body  they  looked 
too.  Apologising  for  the  smallness  of  his  forces, 
the  Kaimakhan  explained  that  I  should  meet  other 
regiments  on  the  march  to  Gergorish  and  Fonduk 
Touar.  We  struck  ofl"  now  across  the  desert,  and 
soon  got  involved  in  a  maze  of  barren  sandhills ; 
but  the  Arabs  seem  to  follow  the  blank  tracks  by 
instinct.  We  passed  the  encampment  of  Zarwia's 
legions,  and  struck  the  fonduk  at  midday.  I  was 
warmly  welcomed  by  the  commandant,  an  Arab 
Bimbashi,  whilst  a  sumptuous  repast  was  soon  in 
course  of  preparation.  Whilst  waiting  I  walked  to 
the  top  of  the  nearest  sand  dunes  from  whence  the 
broad  panorama  of  gleaming  sand,  palpitating  in 
the  rays  of  the  noonday  sun,  quite  pained  my  eyes ; 
but  the  alternative  view,  the  ever  refreshing  blue 
of  the  distant  sea,  cleared  and  cooled  my  vision.  I 
saw   Tripoli,  a  fair  white   arabesque  resting  on  the 


I   GO   ON   TO   TRIPOLI  53 

verge.      From   a    big   grim   gun-boat    belched   forth 
flame  and  wicked  volcanic  smoke,  as  she   sent    shell 
after  shell  hurtling  through  the  regions  of  space  it 
seemed  against  nothing  in  particular,  unless  it  were 
the  Turkish  camps  at  Ain  Zara,  carefully  concealed 
in   the   desert-hollow,   and   invisible    even    with    our 
field-glasses.     As  to  its  exact  position  we  could  make 
out  nothing,  save  that  here  and  there  were  balloon- 
shaped    clouds,    the     deadly    messengers    expending 
their  forces  in  the   air  or  on   the  sand.     The  fight 
was  taken  up  by  other  ships  lying  concealed  behind 
the   minarets   and   domes   of    the   city ;    a    sausage- 
shaped  captive  balloon   swayed  about   in  the  upper 
currents,  presumably  giving  directions  to  the  gunners. 
That  plain  of  sand,  I  thought,  as  a  means  of  protection, 
was  worth  fifty  thousand  soldiers,  for  we  went  back 
and   enjoyed    our    lunch    in   spite    of    the    fact   that 
several  of  the  big  shells  had  buried  themselves  or 
burst  in    close   proximity  to  the  fonduk.     One   real 
danger  we  very  narrowly  escaped,  a  venomous  snake, 
which  was  killed  just  outside  the  tent.     Presumably 
the  beast  had  been  lying  among  the  cushions  and 
blankets  upon  which  we  now  luxuriously  rested. 

A  review  was  held  later,  and  bringing  out  my 
camera  I  photographed  these  warriors. 

I  heard  that  my  officer  comrades  were  now  four 
hours  ahead  of  me,  so  that  later  in  the  afternoon 
we  were  off  again.  Towards  sundown  we  saw  in 
the  distance  the  tents  of  Ain  Zara.  Heavy  rain 
clouds  were  collecting,  which  the  setting  sun  painted 


54    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

with  all  the  glowing  reds  and  yellows  of  the  sub- 
tropic.  Salim,  my  henchman,  was  the  first  to  call 
my  attention  to  a  balloon — "ballon"  he  called  it. 
My  attention  was  riveted  on  the  battleship  from 
which  the  captive  balloon  struggled,  and  also  on 
the  speculation  as  to  where  the  next  shell  would 
burst,  for  we  were  now  in  the  fire  zone,  and  the 
ships'  guns  were  in  military  parlance  "searching" 
the  plain.  Our  caravan  must  have  been  conspicuous, 
as  we  numbered  by  now  something  like  fifty,  and 
were  escorted  by  two  zeptirs. 

I  replied  to  Salim,  "  Yes,  I'm  looking  at  it." 
"  No,  no,  my  mister !  Dar  oder  way ! "  he  ex- 
plained in  great  excitement ;  and  looking  over  my 
shoulder  I  beheld  that  marvel  of  modern  ingenuity, 
the  aeroplane  scout.  As  I  turned  I  saw  this  veno- 
mous machine  change  its  course,  and  make  directly 
for  my  caravan,  and  with  great  rapidity  she  ap- 
proached. I  tried  to  shout  directions  to  everybody 
to  spread  out,  but  no  one  seemed  to  heed ;  my  camel 
still  doggedly  strided  along,  and  the  Arabs  seeming 
to  be  too  interested  in  the  flier  to  think  of  anything 
else,  even  their  own  safety.  The  aeroplane  was  so 
near  to  us  now  that  the  regular  vibration  of  the 
Gnome  engine  could  be  distinctly  heard,  and  it 
became  louder  and  louder  as  it  approached  us.  Pre- 
sently it  was  directly  over  us. 

"Tir!  Tir!"  I  shouted  to  the  zeptirs,  at  which 
they  unslung  their  rifles  and  made  some  sporting 
shots ;    but   whether    they   did   any   damage   to   the 


I   GO   ON   TO   TRIPOLI  55 

machine  or  to  its  pilot  I  could  not  make  out.  As  she 
circled  she  turned  once  more,  and  was  making  for  us 
again,  but  when  the  Arabs  opened  fire  it  seemed  to 
scare  the  pilot,  for  he  passed  us  by  and  flew  on  to  Ain 
Zara,  evidently  reconnoitring  the  various  camps. 

I  gave  my  men  a  short  lecture  on  aeroplanes, 
pointing  out  the  vital  parts,  and  telling  them  not 
to  expend  their  bullets  on  the  outspread  wings. 

Should  they  bring  it  down,  they  told  me  the 
Italians  should  be  under  my  protection  ;  they  were 
not  to  be  killed,  but  handed  over  to  me  to  take  before 
the  commandant.  However,  she  did  not  trouble  us 
any  more,  but  made  straight  for  the  town  of  Tripoli. 

I  must  give  some  credit  to  the  valour  and  pluck 
of  these  Italian  pilots  of  aeroplanes.  It  is  a  big  risk 
to  take,  for  in  case  the  engines  fail  them  they 
have  to  come  down ;  and  in  the  desert  they  would 
probably  starve,  whilst  if  captured  the  chances  were 
that  they  would  have  been  shot. 


CHAPTER  VII 

TO  GENERAL  NKSHET'S  CAMPS 

"Qui  vivef"  cut  the  night  air!  "Oh,  my  mister, 
don't  laugh,  dere's  bad  man  all  time  here ! " 

Salim's  beseeching  instructions  were  hissed  out 
with  quavering  breath.  It  was  really  only  the  usual 
challenge  after  sunset ;  but  Salim's  fear  struck  me 
as  being  so  comical,  that  I  nearly  rolled  off  my  camel 
in  an  explosion  of  mirth. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  mister,  Mohommedan  man  no  like 
it ;  he  shoot  for  sure,"  he  hissed  in  another  compressed 
whisper. 

We  ought  to  have  been  taken  prisoners  as  sus- 
pects, and  in  any  army  excepting  the  casual  Turks 
we  certainly  would  have  been.  Fancy  taking  the 
chance  of  blundering  about  in  the  dark  amongst  all 
those  sentinels !  But  these  dear  kind-hearted  stoics, 
with  their  entire  lack  of  organisation,  and  their 
simple  trust,  treat  the  most  serious  incidents  with 
indifference.  Of  course  we  pow-wow'd,  and  were 
passed  on  with  little  difficulty. 

By  ten  o'clock  that  night  I  dismounted  in  the 
arms  of  my  friend  Alan  Ostler,  one  of  the  riders 
through  the  night,  who  in  the  journey  had  beaten 
me   only   by   about    four   hours.     He    showed    some 


TO  GENERAL  NESHET'S  CAMPS   57 

anxiety  on  my  account,  as  it  happened  that  the 
loafer  Arabs  had  been  committing  a  number  of  acts 
of  violence  against  unwary  travellers.  However, 
all's  well  that  ends  well. 

Dinner  was  prepared,  but  before  I  sat  down  to 
eat  I  heard  from  Tahar  Bey  that  a  friend  of  mine 
lay  in  the  hospital  sick  unto  death.  I  set  off  at 
once  on  horseback,  on  a  jaunt  of  only  half  an  hour 
or  so,  spent  some  time  in  trying  to  cheer  my  chum, 
and  mounted  my  steed  to  return.  A  cavalry  man 
was  sent  to  guide  me  upon  the  return  journey,  and 
he  very  nearly  landed  me  into  the  Italian  lines ;  and 
then  we  wandered,  heaven  knows  where,  until  we 
had  the  luck  to  strike  an  Arab  camp.  Although 
these  men  had  been  fighting  in  the  trenches  all  day 
long,  one  of  them  most  cheerfully  undertook  to  guide 
me  back  to  headquarters,  which  I  eventually  reached, 
tired  out,  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning. 

The  following  day  I  spent  in  visiting  the  neigh- 
bouring camps.  Owing  to  the  constant  shelling  from 
the  forts  of  Tripoli,  and  from  the  battleships,  Neshet's 
camp  was  spread  over  a  large  area  in  small  detach- 
ments, several  of  which  I  had  to  pass  before  reaching 
headquarters.  They  consisted  of  about  a  dozen 
bell  tents,  the  hospital  marquee  being  pitched  some 
distance  away  to  the  south.  The  situation  was 
picturesque,  a  little  dell  amongst  large  sand  dunes, 
which  sheltered  it  on  every  side. 

The  only  danger  was  from  the  sky,  but  at  that 
time  the  dirigible  had  not  arrived,  and  bombs  from 


58    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  aeroplanes  were  small ;  quite  sufficient  to  create 
a  scare,  but  not  so  deadly  and  destructive.  Also 
the  great  elevation  at  which  they  flew  presented  the 
camp  as  a  very  small  target- 

The  following  day  I  reported  myself  to  the  General 
and  Fethi  Bey. 

Neshet's  tent  was  furnished  with  a  bed  and  a 
couple  of  chairs,  but  no  table.  The  Turks  write  all 
their  despatches  and  orders,  holding  the  paper  in  the 
left  hand,  and  using  the  forefinger  as  a  desk.  A  grey 
ammunition  box  captured  from  the  Italians  gave 
occasion  for  a  mild  joke.  The  General  playfully  said, 
"  I'm  going  to  give  you  some  ammunition  to  eat," 
and  opening  the  box  he  produced  some  excellent 
oranges  and  pomegranates  which,  with  a  smile,  he 
handed  to  me. 

General  Neshet  is  a  most  unpretending  and 
simple  soldier.  He  is  an  old  Turk.  I  mean  of  course 
'*  old "  in  the  sense  of  being  an  adherent  of  the  old 
legislation  and  the  old  government  under  Abdul 
Hamid.  He  carries  his  heavy  responsibilities  with 
the  usual  Turkish  sang-froid,  and  is  a  good,  humane 
just  man,  besides  being  a  fine  soldier.  Indeed  he 
must  be,  to  have  kept  at  bay  for  so  long  a  time 
an  army  perfectly  equipped  and  disciplined,  and  com- 
manded by  some  of  the  first  European  generals. 

The  mere  anxiety  of  it  would  kill  many  men,  but 
he  accepts  his  position  as  the  will  of  God,  and  will 
willingly  die  in  the  last  ditch  ;  but  surrender — never  ! 
Neshet  is  supported  by  a  tried  and  trusted  staff. 


TO   GENERAL   NESHET'S   CAMPS     59 

Fethi  Bey,  the  chief  of  staff,  is  a  quiet,  pensive  man, 
a  politician,  with  the  most  charming  manners,  and 
was  until  recently  military  attach^  at  Paris.  At  the 
call  of  his  country  he  cheerfully  sacrificed  the  delights 
and  comforts  of  the  French  capital  for  the  hard  stern 
life  of  the  field. 

There  is  also  Djavid,  a  cultured  gentleman; 
Ismail  Hakki,  a  humorist  such  as  one  rarely  meets 
among  the  Turks,  who  by  nature  and  habit  are  quiet 
and  reserved  ;  Tahar,  a  dashing  soldier,  full  of  verve, 
the  Brigadier  Gerard  of  the  Turkish  army.  They 
recounted  to  me  their  adventures  and  difficulties  in 
crossing  the  frontier,  and  now  there  they  were  all 
together,  a  merry,  hard-working  party,  taking  life 
as  it  comes,  and  paying  very  little  attention  to  the 
overwhelming  black  shadow  looming  with  ever  in- 
creasing blackness  overhead.  Fethi  commands  the 
Arabs,  and  lives  at  Suk  el  Juma,  right  under  the 
guns  of  Tripoli.  The  work  is  difficult  and  dangerous, 
the  alertness  of  the  Italians  rendering  it  unsafe  to 
ride  there  during  the  day,  but  at  night  one  can  get 
through  without  having  to  dodge  big  shells. 

I  then  paid  a  visit  to  Sheik  Barouni,  who 
greeted  me  most  warmly,  giving  me  an  Italian  rifle 
as  a  backsheesh.  I  sat  long  in  his  tent  drinking 
sweet  bitter  tea  and  listening  to  stories  of  the 
prowess  of  his  warriors,  who  crowded  around  the 
tent  to  see  the  strange  Igleesi.  His  tent  was  of  a 
Syrian  pattern,  which  has  scarcely  been  varied  since 
the    days    of    the   Crusaders.      In    fact,    the    whole 


6o    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

organisation  and  travel  in  these  parts  seems  to  be 
exactly  a  counterpart  of  those  romantic  days. 
Cushions  were  placed  to  support  my  back,  whilst 
the  most  expensive  silken  carpets  covered  the  floor. 
The  space  was  considerably  contracted,  used  as  it 
was  for  a  general  magazine,  equipments  and  stores, 
&c.,  the  silver  harness  of  the  Sheik's  war  horse,  a 
capture  from  the  Italians,  taking  up  quite  a  quarter 
of  it.  Outside  stood  the  greatest  prize  of  the  war, 
a  battered  piano  taken  from  the  Italians  on  some 
daring  raid  under  the  very  walls  of  Tripoli.  The 
whole  tribe  seemed  to  regard  this  as  a  sacred  object. 
Its  weight  and  shape  made  it  a  most  difficult  task 
to  carry  it  upon  the  back  of  a  camel,  and  yet  be- 
fore a  move  was  made  this  unwieldy  treasure  had 
to  be  sent  off,  whilst,  during  one  of  our  retreats, 
valuable  kitchen  gear  was  left  behind  to  bring  this 
cumbersome  treasure  safely  along.  As  I  saw  it  there, 
open  and  exposed  to  all  weather,  the  ivory  off  many 
of  the  keys,  and  two  camels  calmly  browsing  off  the 
strings,  I  wondered  what  its  particular  attraction 
could  possibly  be.  But  then  we  Europeans  are 
sometimes  apt  to  treasure  the  most  useless  articles. 

I  spent  some  time  inspecting  the  bivouacking 
arrangements  of  these  Jebel  warriors.  Tattered  old 
bell  tents  lent  by  the  Turks  sheltered  some,  but  the 
more  fortunate  among  them  lived  in  the  old  Bedouin 
style,  in  tents  of  camel  hair,  roughly  woven,  with  an 
oblong  strip  fastened  to  the  ground  with  pegs.  It  is 
finished  ofi  by  sticking  a  pole  up  against  the  roof. 


TO   GENERAL   NESHET'S   CAMPS      6i 

This  gives  head-room  in  the  centre,  but  everywhere 
else  one  squats  and  crawls.  They  have  this  advantage 
though,  that  they  withstand  the  sweeping  desert 
storms,  they  are  rain -proof,  cool  in  summer  and  warm 
in  the  winter. 

Some  less  fortunate  soldiers  had  dug  holes  in  the 
sand,  and  were  sleeping  peacefully  in  their  hrams. 

Forts  and  battleships  kept  up  a  constant  shell 
storm  over  the  neighbouring  country,  mapping  out  the 
desert  into  sections,  each  of  which  are  treated  con- 
secutively to  a  constant  baptism  of  fire.  Some  in- 
tuition seems  to  tell  the  dwellers  in  these  sections 
when  their  turn  is  coming  along,  and  they  move  into 
the  neighbouring  compounds. 

All  day  long  the  rattle  of  musketry,  the  spraying 
of  shrapnel,  and  the  hammering  of  quick-firers  goes 
on  without  any  intermission.  In  the  east  of  the  town 
the  palms  and  the  gardens  stretch  as  far  as  Zadjura, 
where  the  principal  fighting  took  place  with  Suk  el 
Juma.  As  a  base,  the  Arabs  have  advanced  their  lines 
to  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  walls  of  Tripoli. 
The  Italians  hold  many  of  the  gardens,  each  in  itself  a 
strong  fort,  as  the  thick  walls  of  mud  stop  the  bullets 
and  fairly  withstand  the  pounding  of  the  field  guns. 

The  mighty  columns  of  the  date  palms  are  whittled 
through  by  the  continuous  hail  of  their  bullets.  The 
Arabs  crawl  through  these  trees  to  their  shallow 
trenches,  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  compound 
walls.  Singly  they  skip  across  the  danger  zone  to 
crouch  at  the  base,  safely  ensconced.     Our  one  gun 


62  TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

pounds  away  until  a  breach  is  effected  over  their  heads, 
and  then  together  they  make  a  rush  through,  and 
woe  to  any  ItaUans  who  wait  too  long.  Then  they 
sleep  in  the  captured  position,  amusing  themselves 
during  the  night  by  shaking  the  boughs  of  the  cactus, 
where  the  straggly  boughs  and  thick  oval  leaves  look 
just  like  human  heads.  Instantly  there  is  a  pande- 
monium of  firing,  simply  hell  let  loose,  whilst  the 
warriors  crouch  at  the  foot  of  the  wall  in  perfect  safety 
and  enjoy  the  fun  and  wasted  ammunition.  But  there 
is  some  method  and  policy  in  this  too.  They  have 
discovered  that  the  enemy  have  nerves  badly,  and 
nothing  is  more  trying  to  them  than  to  keep  these 
delicate  organs  always  in  a  state  of  great  tension, 
hourly  expecting  an  attack,  which  may  be  delivered 
at  any  moment,  or  may  not  come  for  a  week's  time. 
Even  should  they  succeed  in  reaching  these  massive 
walls  very  long  ladders  would  be  required  to  scale 
them,  and  then  only  to  face  hundreds  of  quick-firers 
lining  the  battlements.  But  nothing  daunted  our 
gallant  army — absolutely  nothing  but  the  last  great 
enemy — death ;  and  I  think  that  it  was  this  element  in 
their  nature,  amongst  many  other  admirable  traits, 
which  unconsciously  drew  my  admiration  and  my 
regard  towards  them. 

Up  to  the  feast  of  Bairam  matters  seemed  to  be 
going  well.  The  Sultan  sent  his  salaams  to  his 
heroes,  and  well  they  deserved  the  encouragement. 
But  this  celebration  of  the  feast  of  Bairam  was  the 
cause  of  our  undoing.     Our  Arab  allies  left  in  their 


TO   GENERAL   NESHET'S   CAMPS      63 

thousands  to  visit  their  famiHes  to  eat  the  sacrificial 
lamb.  This  fact  was  perfectly  well  known  to  the 
enemy,  whose  spies  of  course  kept  them  very  well 
posted  as  to  the  doings  of  the  Turkish  army.  During 
one  eventful  night  the  heavy  rain  very  nearly  washed 
us  out  of  the  hollow  in  which  we  had  pitched  our 
camp.  Heavy  firing  went  on  all  through  the  night, 
but  nothing  more  than  the  average  amount.  We 
had  made  up  our  minds  to  have  a  really  good  rest 
and  keep  in  bed  until  luncheon  time.  Some  sort 
of  presentiment,  however,  must  have  prevented  us 
from  sleeping. 

The  firing  seemed  to  be  more  persistent  that 
morning,  and  the  curious  snap  of  bursting  shells 
sounded  more  distinctly.  We  tried  to  believe  that 
this  was  caused  by  the  humid  atmosphere,  in  which 
sound  travels  more  quickly.  Salim  sounded  the  first 
note  of  alarm  in  the  following  cheerful  manner : 
"  Dese  Italian  men  no  good  men.  Seventy  thousand 
cavalry  coming  ober  dere ;    eat  all  up." 

We  ridiculed  the  idea,  knowing  perfectly  well 
that  no  army  in  the  world  possessed  such  a  force. 
Still  there  might  be  some  truth  in  the  suggestion 
of  an  attack ;  such  a  flanking  movement  was  quite 
possibly  on  the  cards.  There  seemed  to  be  an  unusual 
stir  and  bustle  amongst  the  tents,  and  knowing 
the  casual  easy  ways  of  our  friends,  I  concluded 
that  it  might  be  worth  while  to  do  a  little  private 
reconnoitring. 

Alan    Ostler   agreed   to   ride   out   and   seek   for 


64    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

intelligence,  and  whilst  he  was  away  I  studied  the 
different  developments.  I  noticed  that  sentries 
were  posted  on  all  the  neighbouring  points  of  van- 
tage. Now  a  galloper  arrived,  hot  with  news  that 
seemed  to  have  a  disturbing  effect  upon  the  general 
and  his  staff,  for  they  mounted  their  horses  and  rode 
rapidly  away  towards  the  firing  line.  Then  a  little 
later  no  doubt  at  all  remained  in  my  mind  that 
affairs  were  serious,  possibly  critical,  and  wounded 
men  began  to  be  carried  in.  One  poor  fellow, 
splashed  with  blood,  was  brought  in  on  a  donkey, 
supported  on  either  side  by  limping  comrades,  also 
slightly  hurt ;  all  of  them,  as  I  learned  later,  by  the 
terrible  shrapnel. 

I  interviewed  Salim,  who  was  already  busy 
packing  the  gear  as  quickly  as  possible.  Stray 
shrapnel  sent  showers  of  bullets  amongst  us,  and 
so  the  battle  for  Ain  Zara  began. 

My  anxiety  to  get  information  that  might  be 
useful  now  took  up  all  my  attention  and  energy, 
so  I  made  off  towards  the  front,  the  noise  and  con- 
fusion increasing  as  I  rode  nearer,  past  groups  of 
fugitives  carrying  all  sorts  of  household  implements, 
and  many  of  the  artillery  horses  pounding  along 
without  the  guns. 

When  I  came  to  the  bazaar  I  found  Arab  merchants 
hurriedly  trying  to  conclude  bargains,  even  with  the 
shells  flying  around  them,  so  strong  was  the  ruling 
passion  which  always  seems  to  dominate  them. 

Sheik  Suleiman  Barouni  urged  these  loiterers  both 


TO  GENERAL  NESHET'S  CAMPS   65 

•with  whip  and  voice,  to  cease  their  business  and  clear 
off,  but  none  of  them  seemed  to  realise  their  danger. 

I  rode  on  to  the  highest  ridge,  which  commanded 
the  entire  position,  and  from  here  I  could  watch  the 
progress  of  affairs. 

The  Italian  attack  developed,  as  they  came  on  in 
crescent  formation,  an  enveloping  movement.  The 
bulk  of  the  army  concentrated  against  our  left,  and  to 
withstand  this  tremendous  assault  we  only  had  eight 
old  patterned  Krupp  guns,  which  took  half  an  hour 
to  load,  a  few  hundred  Arabs  and  twenty  Turkish 
infantry. 

Nazim  Bey  and  some  thirty-five  cavalry  were  a 
few  miles  away  farther  to  the  left,  towards  Gargerish, 
the  position  of  battery  A,  which  consisted  of  three 
guns,  commanded  by  Achmet  Effendi,  a  sixty-year-old 
captain. 

The  fourth  gun  was  placed  on  a  hillock  called 
Guzenata,  directly  opposite  Sidi  Misri,  whereon  stood 
an  Italian  battery.  The  remaining  battery  B  was 
somewhat  nearer  to  Ain  Zara,  but  these  guns  could 
not  reach  the  Italians,  although  they  vomited  smoke 
and  looked  terrible  enough. 

Our  skeleton  army  held  their  own  until  the 
afternoon,  when  the  Italians,  who  had  been  advancing 
in  regulation  form,  stopping  to  entrench  every  hun- 
dred yards  or  so,  arrived  within  a  thousand  metres  of 
battery  A,  which  had  run  out  of  ammunition. 

All  this  time  the  enemy's  guns  kept  up  a  cease- 
less fire  from  ships,  forts,  batteries,  and  machine  guns, 

E 


66    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

but  by  some  miracle  our  forces  were  not  decimated. 
Aeroplanes  hovered  over  us,  signalling  information  of 
our  exact  positions  to  the  various  batteries  and  forts, 
but  the  Turks  stuck  to  their  guns  in  spite  of  it  all. 

On  the  right  between  us  and  Suk  el  Juma  a 
conspicuous  conical  sand  mountain,  which  had  shel- 
tered the  cavalry  camp,  came  in  for  more  than  its 
share  of  the  shell,  and  I  do  not  think  that  even  a  fly 
could  have  remained  alive  upon  it. 

The  Arabs,  some  seven  hundred  of  them,  stationed 
amongst  the  gardens  of  Suk  el  Juma,  gave  a  good 
account  of  themselves,  fighting  with  their  accustomed 
ferocity ;  they  flung  back  the  Italian  left,  and  could 
reinforcements  in  sufficient  numbers  have  come  up 
at  that  critical  moment,  the  battle  of  Ain  Zara  would 
have  had  a  different  termination. 

I  heard  afterwards  that  a  couple  of  thousand  of 
these  hardy  warriors  would  have  well  turned  the 
scale,  and  would  have  completely  cut  off  the  retreat 
of  the  Italians  back  to  Tripoli. 

The  order  to  retire  to  Bu  Gashir,  which  came 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  was  evidently 
perfectly  incomprehensible  to  them,  after  their 
magnificent  behaviour ;  but  from  lack  of  intelligence 
nothing  was  known  of  what  was  going  on  in  the 
south  and  the  west.  Upon  returning  to  the  camp  I 
found  that  Salim  had  already  packed,  and  two  camels 
were  staggering  under  a  load  quite  enough  for  three. 
We  left  nothing  behind,  but  it  speaks  volumes  for  the 
kindness   and   hospitality   of   the    Turks,    that   they 


TO   GENERAL   NESHET'S   CAMPS      67 

should  leave  their  gear  and  carry  that  of  the 
strangers.  Fugitives  began  to  crowd  into  the  place, 
but  there  was  no  confusion,  as  we  all  made  off  for 
Fonduk  Bu  Gashir  across  the  trackless  desert. 

The  road  of  course  was  swept  by  the  Italian  guns ; 
indeed,  more  than  once  I  heard  the  whistle  of  shrap- 
nel bullets  closer  to  my  head  than  I  liked,  and  added 
to  this  an  aeroplane  swooped  here  and  there  across 
our  line  of  retreat,  urging  the  stragglers  and  inci- 
dentally stimulating  my  own  energy.  One  rather 
amusing  incident  occurred  near  to  me  during  this 
retreat.  As  the  aeroplane  swept  over  us,  that  part 
of  the  line  immediately  beneath  it  swayed  and 
scattered,  crouching  like  a  flock  of  partridges,  wait- 
ing the  dreaded  bomb.  A  Turkish  captain  took  a 
rifle  out  of  the  hands  of  one  of  the  soldiers  to  have  a 
shot  at  it.  The  gun  did  not  go  off,  for  it  seems  that 
in  the  excitement  of  the  moment  he  forgot  to  alter  the 
safety  spring,  and  the  aeroplane  quickly  buzzed  away 
out  of  range.  On  recovering  the  rifle,  whilst  the 
soldier  was  examining  the  spring  it  went  off  unex- 
pectedly, and  the  charge  only  just  missed  the  captain  ! 

It  is  astonishing  how  vast  an  area  the  desert 
seems  to  be.  There  must  have  been  some  thousands 
of  fugitives  there,  and  yet  I  lost  myself  for  fully  half 
an  hour,  and  thought  that  I  might  have  to  spend  the 
night,  and  perhaps  meet  a  worse  fate,  in  this  wilder- 
ness. The  soft  yielding  sand  muffles  the  footfall  and 
deadens  any  sound  of  marching. 

Fortunately  this  part  of  the  desert  was  lumpy, 


68    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  drifting  sand  being  piled  up  in  mounds,  so  that 
in  mounting  one  of  them  in  order  to  try  and  j&nd  my 
bearings,  I  espied  the  staff  only  about  a  thousand 
yards  away,  following  the  direction  of  the  setting  sun. 
I  promptly  walked  south  to  cut  their  trail,  and  falling 
in  with  the  ragged  irregular  procession  I  continued 
my  march.  The  way  was  perfectly  defined  now, 
pathetically  marked  by  finger-posts  of  all  manner  of 
debris — saddles,  trail  ropes,  and  all  sorts  of  small 
things.  Arab  women  and  children,  many  of  them 
almost  babies,  footed  it  right  merrily.  One  boy,  who 
could  not  have  been  more  than  seven  years  old,  carried 
a  tent  pole  as  large  again  as  himself.  War-weary 
soldiers  staggered  along,  many  sufiering  from  wounds 
which  would  certainly  have  laid  most  men  in  hospital. 
But  these  decorations  are  looked  upon  in  much  the 
same  way  as  the  ordinary  Tommy  Atkins  regards 
his  war  medals. 

I  found  my  travelling  companions  very  sociable 
As  night  fell,  the  march  took  on  a  fresh  charm  from 
the  mystery  of  the  moonlight  in  the  desert.  The 
temperature  lowered,  and  I  felt  thankful  for  my  over- 
coat. A  long  eight  hours'  march  brought  us  to  the 
fonduk,  and  here  I  found  Neshet  and  his  staff  sitting 
cross-legged  on  the  broken  dirty  floor  of  the  only 
habitable  room  in  the  place,  in  which  useless  lumber 
filled  up  the  corners.  By  the  light  of  a  single  candle, 
which  was  stuck  in  a  bottle,  and  with  the  help  of  a 
map  spread  out  upon  the  floor,  the  general  and  his  staff 
talked  as  calmly  as  if  the  defeat  was  of  no  consequence. 


TO   GENERAL   NESHET'S   CAMPS      69 

Fethi  Bey  in  his  musical  voice  murmured  some- 
thing about  another  plan  which  would  make  every- 
thing right.  Inshallah !  no  one  seemed  the  least  bit 
concerned.  Tahar  Bey  and  a  few  tired  cavalry  on 
jaded  horses  rode  back  to  reconnoitre.  I  fully  expected 
to  see  something  of  the  seventy  thousand  cavalry  long 
ere  this,  but  such  was  the  extraordinary  immobility  of 
the  enemy  that  this  one  perfect  opportunity  of  settling 
the  fate  of  Tripolitaine  was  lost.  No  wonder  every- 
one of  my  companions  took  fresh  heart,  feeling  that 
although  the  battle  was  lost  they  were  still  conquerors. 

My  baggage  arrived  with  Salim,  who  scolded  me 
for  getting  lost  and  making  him  cry.  He  soon  got 
some  hot  tea,  which  I  directed  to  be  taken  to  head- 
quarters, following  myself  later.  Someone,  I  think 
it  was  Fethi,  produced  a  huge  box  of  sardines  and 
some  bread,  so  that  with  the  tea  and  cigarettes  we 
made  a  very  excellent  meal.  I  think  that  I  felt 
more  sorrow  than  they.  There  was  something  so 
pathetic  in  their  wild  wistful  eyes,  so  heroic  under 
such  a  crushing  reverse.  Breakfast,  I  think  that  we 
might  call  it,  was  soon  despatched.  Then  Neshet's 
energy  returned,  and  I  left  him  scribbling  orders  and 
commands  to  waiting  orderlies.  We  could  hear  in 
the  distance  the  boom  of  the  artillery,  for  the  Italians 
pounded  away  at  the  sand  for  a  long  time  after  every 
human  being  had  vanished.  And  so  cheered  and  in- 
spired by  the  war  chants  of  the  Arabs  the  retreat 
continued,  our  goal,  Azizia,  being  still  many  miles 
away. 


yo    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

The  stragglers  by  this  time  had  come  up,  and 
we  kept  a  fairly  good  line  of  march.  Here  and  there 
we  passed  parties  of  Arabs  or  soldiers  making  tea, 
and  laughingly  relating  their  adventures  and  firing 
rifles  aimlessly  to  give  point  to  their  tales.  Other 
Arab  bands  replied  to  this  spontaneous  musketry  by 
blazing  away  in  return.  The  whole  situation  was 
comical,  if  it  had  not  been  so  very  serious.  Imagine 
a  beaten  army,  and  the  enemy  supposed  to  be  following 
us  up,  firing,  drumming,  and  making  noise  enough 
to  be  heard  three  miles  away  !  It  looked  as  if  our 
experiences  would  be  followed  by  a  night  attack !  In 
fact,  a  friend  of  mine  came  riding  up  and  declared 
that  the  Italians  were  on  our  flank,  and  that  shells 
were  bursting  as  near  as  half  a  mile  away.  The 
only  explanation  I  could  offer  was  that  the  warriors 
were  showing  off"  their  old-fashioned  blunderbusses, 
for  many  carried  this  ancient  weapon  besides  a 
Mauser ;  indeed,  I  have  seen  these  doughty  men-at- 
arms  carrying  as  many  as  four  rifles,  and  almost  his 
own  weight  in  cartridges,  and  yet  marching  four 
miles  an  hour,  laughing  and  chatting  all  the  time. 

There  was  a  sadder  side  to  this  picture  though. 
The  wounded  were  having  a  very  bad  time.  One 
poor  chap,  mortally  hurt,  was  stuffed  into  an  old 
packing-case  with  his  legs  bent  double,  his  head 
lolling  over  the  edge,  and  all  the  time  uttering  faint 
prayers  to  Allah,  between  the  jerks  of  a  very  rough 
baggage  camel  upon  which  he  and  a  companion  on 
the  other  side  were  being  borne.     He  never  reached 


TO  GENERAL  NESHET'S  CAMPS   71 

Azizia,  poor  fellow ;  there  were  a  few  stifled  sobs,  the 
lolling  head  stiffened,  and  we  left  him  in  a  few  inches 
of  sand  by  the  wayside.  At  last  we  reached  Azizia, 
where  a  kindly  doctor,  Orhan  Bey,  placed  his  bed 
at  my  disposal,  and  in  a  state  of  absolute  exhaustion 
I  slept  the  clock  round. 

The  red  hill  of  Azizia  rises  like  an  elongated  cone 
to  the  height  of  150  feet  direct  from  the  plain. 
The  top  is  crowned  with  a  marabout,  the  tomb  of 
Sidi  Ramadan,  for  it  is  always  the  custom  of  the 
Arabs  to  bury  saints  upon  the  top  of  the  highest 
hill  in  the  neighbourhood. 

At  the  foot  there  is  generally  a  straggling  village 
and  a  terrace  of  burrows  or  underground  houses.  The 
saint  soon  has  plenty  of  company — for  these  spots  are 
considered  to  be  holy,  and  therefore  sanctified  as  a 
burial-ground.  This  particular  cemetery  drains  into 
the  village  well,  and  is  spreading  death  and  disease 
throughout  the  district.  These  burial-grounds  soon 
get  uncomfortably  crowded,  the  shallow  graves  lie 
close  to  each  other  like  furrows,  and  votive  offerings 
of  old  rags,  stones,  and  other  tokens  of  enduring  love 
and  affection  ornament  the  graves. 

A  line  of  dusky  mountains  runs  south  and  west, 
and  their  mysterious  hollows  I  yearned  to  explore. 
The  original  plan  was  to  retire  to  Gherien,  a  fortress 
high  up  among  the  summits,  an  impregnable  fastness, 
approached  only  by  a  stupendous  pass.  Hakki  Bey 
brought  in  the  news,  incredible  as  it  seems,  that  the 
Italians  actually  retired  to  their  trenches,  leaving  all 


72    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

manner  of  military  equipment  behind  them,  and  that 
our  soldiers  had  carried  away  as  much  as  they  pos- 
sibly could. 

Neshet  and  his  staff  settled  themselves  tempo- 
rarily in  the  house  of  Kasr  or  Kaimakhan,  sending 
the  wounded  along.  I  followed  them  at  five  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  and  at  the  first  stage  of  the  journey  a 
halt  was  made  at  an  underground  outpost,  quite  an 
ideal  place  for  shelter  from  aerial  bombs.  Here  we 
met  several  ofiicers,  and  we  had  a  good  square  meal 
in  comfort. 

At  midnight  we  started,  and  reached  the  curious 
underground  fonduk  in  the  early  hours  of  the 
morning.  Here  we  were  regaled  with  legbe,  or  palm 
wine,  and  some  hot  tea. 

An  Arab,  who  was  locally  reputed  to  be  more 
than  one  hundred  years  old,  kept  the  fonduk.  I 
might  perhaps  explain  to  the  reader  here  that  a 
fonduk  is  the  only  equivalent  to  an  inn,  but  there 
is  none  of  the  welcome  hospitality  which  we  associate 
here  with  such  a  resting-place.  Fonduks  are  really 
lodging-houses,  and  like  them  of  course  they  vary 
in  size,  some  having  only  a  few  rooms,  whilst  others 
have  a  great  number.  Sometimes  they  are  under- 
ground, sometimes  above  ground,  and  built  with  dried 
mud  walls. 

In  any  case,  it  is  arranged  that  there  is  a  com- 
pound in  the  centre  for  the  animals,  and  the  accom- 
modation rooms  extend  from  this  on  all  sides.  The 
rooms   are   quite   bare,    and   all    that    the   traveller 


TO  GENERAL  NESHET'S  CAMPS  ^^ 

considers  to  be  necessary  he  brings  with  him,  food 
and  all.  The  only  service  obtainable  is  that  of  the 
one  man  who  guards  the  place  and  its  visitors  from 
intrusion  or  theft,  like  the  night  porter  at  an  hotel 
in  this  country. 

In  this  particular  fonduk  there  are  two  chambers 
fashioned  out  of  the  rock,  and  whoever  designed  the 
rooms  must  have  had  some  architectural  knowledge. 
Three  E-oman  arches  canopy  the  raised  platforms 
on  three  sides  of  the  chamber ;  the  workmanship  is 
excellent,  and  the  design  true.  For  a  few  doxans 
(one  doxan  is  about  twopence  halfpenny)  you  can  have 
the  use  of  one  of  these  lodgings,  fleas  and  all,  for  the 
night,  and,  moreover,  be  allowed  to  pack  in  as  many 
guests  as  you  like.  The  cost  of  the  accommodation 
discourages  criticism  of  it.  The  cooking  is  done  on 
the  floor,  the  fire  filling  the  place  with  a  strong 
pungent  smoke,  disagreeable  to  the  eyes  and  throat. 
Arabs,  of  course,  are  quite  indifferent  to  such  trifles 
as  these. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

I   CONTINUE   MY  JOURNEY 

The  night  travelling  is  pleasant,  but  the  heat  of 
the  day  is  exhausting.  I  was  surprised  to  find 
though  that,  in  spite  of  the  heat,  and  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  I  smoked  my  pipe  incessantly  all  day 
long,  I  scarcely  ever  suffered  from  thirst,  often 
travelling  in  the  hot  sun  for  a  whole  day  without 
a  drink  of  any  description.  I  attribute  this  largely 
to  an  excellent  habit  which  I  acquired  from  the 
Arabs,  and  that  was  to  clean  my  teeth  many  times 
a  day,  and  always  after  any  meal,  however  light. 
I  very  strongly  recommend  this  practice.  When  I 
started  I  had  a  precious  bottle  of  Odol  and  a  tooth- 
brush, but  like  all  good  things  the  Odol  came  to 
an  end,  and  the  tooth-brush  became  worn  out,  so 
that  after  then  I  did  what  my  companions  did,  used 
my  fingers  to  apply  the  water. 

Soon  after  we  left  the  fonduk  our  road  zig- 
zagged at  an  almost  perpendicular  angle  up  the 
mountain  side. 

Some  slight  attempts  had  been  made  in  the  past 
to  improve  it,  but  what  struck  me  was  the  admirable 
position  it  would  have  been  for  a  defending  army.  A 
dozen  good  shots,  with  plenty  of  ammunition,  could 

74 


I    CONTINUE   MY   JOURNEY  75 

have  kept  a  thousand  men  at  bay  quite  easily.     It 
reminded   me  of   the  famous   pass    of    Killiecrankie, 
only  it  was  wilder,    grander,    and  much   longer.     I 
felt    my  spirits   rise  and   my   pulse  throb   with   the 
delightful    change   of  the   air  and  the  temperature, 
for   we    had    reached    an    altitude    of   more   than    a 
thousand   feet    above    the    plain   below.     A    curious 
round  tower,  built  on  the  same  lines  as  those  famous 
towers   in    Ireland,    stands    like   a    sentinel    at    the 
entrance    to   the   pass.     It  could  hardly   have  been 
intended  for  a  watch  tower,  and  for  what  purpose 
it   had   been   erected   was   a   matter   of    conjecture. 
From  the  edge  of  the  vertical  cliffs  the  vast  plain 
lay  open.     The  smallest  track  was  perfectly  distinct. 
The  unmade  road  winds  its  way  through    hills  rich 
in   various   produce — corn,    vines,    and  olive   groves. 
At   intervals   one    comes    across   Roman   wells,    and 
small  towns  of  the  troglodytes,  the  dwellers  in  sub- 
terranean houses.     One  first  gets  a  passing  glance  of 
a    steep   stairway   leading    down   to   the    compound, 
fifty  feet  below,  and  from  which  rude  doorways  open 
into   galleries ;     all   is   black   darkness,   but   for    the 
occasional  glimmer  of  an  oil  lamp  in  the  living  rooms 
of  these  strange  people. 

The  ancient  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano  almost 
overhung  us  from  the  summit,  from  which  the  general 
plan  of  this  town  looks  singularly  like  a  map  of  the 
moon.  We  journeyed  on,  through  olive  groves, 
gardens  and  cornlands,  to  the  second  pass,  steeper, 
but  not  quite  so  long  as  the  first.     The  fragrance 


76    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

of  wild  thyme  pervaded  the  air,  and  heathy  vege- 
tation covered  the  slopes.  Here  and  there  a  wild 
date  palm  marks  a  point  in  the  landscape.  The  town 
of  Gherien  is  almost  half  subterranean.  The  road  ran 
through  gardens  of  fig  and  other  fruit  trees,  with  a 
ruined  house  or  two  here  and  there,  and  we  passed 
into  the  market  square. 

Here  bazaar  was  going  on  and  brisk  trade  doing 
in  vegetables  and  fruits.  We  found  some  cigarettes 
and  native  tobacco,  and  incidentally  a  variety  of 
Manchester  goods.  Occasionally  some  good  carpets 
find  their  way  into  the  suhs,  but  their  values  are 
too  well  known  to  give  much  chance  to  the  bargain 
hunter.  Beggars  abounded  in  profusion ;  they  were 
most  persistent,  and  one  old  chap,  more  determined 
than  his  companions,  absolutely  refused  to  leave  us 
until  he  was  backsheeshed.  He  was  a  marabout,  or 
pilgrim  to  the  saints'  tombs,  and  it  is  imperative 
to  give  these  itinerant  saints  something,  if  only 
the  smallest  coin  you  happen  to  have  about  you. 
About  a  kilometre  farther  on  the  road  suddenly 
ended  at  the  gates  of  a  picturesque  medieval  Arab 
castle,  now  used  as  a  barracks,  and  here  we  stayed. 
Its  ancient  walls  are  buttressed  by  precipices.  From 
the  giddy  height  of  its  now  crumbling  embrasures 
the  view  is  absolutely  magnificent.  The  foot-hills 
and  spurs  of  the  mountain  run  out  into  the  desert. 
Far  away  in  the  distance  is  the  shimmering  hazy 
quivering  line  of  blue  sea  limiting  the  plain,  whilst 
very   faintly  can   be   distinguished   the   red   hill   at 


THE    PASS    UP   THE    MOUNTAIN  TO    GIIERIEN 


I   CONTINUE   MY  JOURNEY  ^^ 

Azizia,  with  the  white  tomb  of  the  marabout  upon 
its  summit,  blazing  in  the  sunlight  like  a  flash  point 
over  the  plain.  The  caravan  routes,  like  gossamer 
threads,  cross  one  another  again  and  again,  and 
from  the  distance  look  like  a  woven  pattern. 

On  the  landward  side  there  is  a  deep  ravine 
following  the  slopes  of  the  mountain  on  which  the 
castle  stands.  A  limpid  brook  babbles  as  it  runs, 
watering  the  jungle  of  fruit  trees  that  fill  this  gorge. 
Everything  flourishes  in  great  abundance  in  this 
happy  tropical  valley,  open  only  to  the  sky.  Ter- 
raced gardens  hang  on  the  mountain  side,  towards 
which  I  would  see  trains  of  patient  donkeys  strug- 
gling with  their  loads  of  fresh  earth.  Tiny  rills 
everywhere  supply  these  hanging  gardens  with  the 
necessary  water. 

Beautiful  as  this  picture  is  when  veiled  in  the 
morning  mist,  it  is  doubly  so  in  the  glory  of  the 
setting  sun ;  the  whole  seems  bathed  in  an  amber 
light,  transfiguring  the  landscape  into  almost  a 
dream-picture  of  rose  gold  and  eau  de  nielle.  At 
last  night  spread  its  dark  pall  with  almost  start- 
ling suddenness.  The  silver  stars  shone  with  metallic 
brilliancy  contrasted  with  the  dull  flickering  gold 
of  the  camp  fires,  and  all  the  world  seemed  to  be 
at  rest. 

Like  all  Arab  buildings  the  walls  of  this  old 
castle  were  in  the  last  stages  of  dilapidation  ;  the 
ironwork  encrusted  with  rust,  windows  and  doors 
hanging  by  a  single  hinge,  or  lying  neglected  upon 


j^    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  ground.  The  floor  of  the  courtyard  consisted 
of  the  natural  rough  surface  of  the  mountain-top, 
with  the  more  uneven  places  filled  in  here  and  there 
with  rough  boulders  embedded  in  cement.  Over 
this  uneven  floor  the  pack  animals  carefully  picked 
their  way,  until  the  whole  yard  was  crammed  full 
of  slobbering,  uneasy  camels  vainly  trying  to  find 
sufficient  space  in  which  to  lie  down.  To  add  to 
the  general  confusion  a  number  of  stallions  began 
fighting,  and  their  drivers  shrieking  at  them  to 
desist.  In  spite  of  all  this  the  commissariat  party 
went  on  methodically  weighing  sacks  of  flour  and 
serving  out  stores  in  calm  indifference  to  the  per- 
sistent hubbub.  In  moving  about  at  night  in  such 
a  compound  the  unwary  runs  a  good  chance  of  a 
broken  leg,  or  worse,  if  not  careful  in  traversing  the 
worn  and  broken  surface.  I  can  compare  it  to  nothing 
but  a  slippery,  rocky  beach. 

One-storied  chambers  of  various  sizes — some 
dungeon-like,  others  of  noble  dimensions — line  the 
old  walls,  all  of  them  in  a  picturesque  state  of 
dilapidation,  for  the  Arab  believes  in  never  repairing 
anything.  Seated  upon  the  rugged  platform  of  the 
ancient  well  I  noticed  an  old  Arab  feeding  four 
camels,  and  all  that  he  had  to  give  the  tired  animals 
was  a  few  pounds  of  rough  grass. 

An  uneven  irregular  stone  staircase,  with  a  broken 
balustrade,  led  to  the  upper  chambers,  which  were 
originally,  I  was  told,  the  apartments  of  the  ladies  of 
the  harem.     The  windows,  close  battened,  the  tunnel- 


I   CONTINUE   MY  JOURNEY  79 

like  passages,  the  primitive  cooking  places,  all  left 
just  as  they  stood  when  the  Arab  potentate  ruled 
over  that  part  of  the  country  ;  the  stone  divans  be- 
neath the  windows  were  just  the  same.  Now  these 
quiet  abodes  of  rest  and  pleasure  resound  to  the 
tramp  of  armed  men  and  the  clattering  of  accoutre- 
ments. The  old  chimneys  and  the  old-fashioned  fire- 
places do  their  duty  just  as  well  as  ever  they  did  of 
old.  I  involuntarily  thought  of  the  long  years  ago 
when  the  merry  chatter  and  laughter  of  beautiful 
women  echoed  along  these  now  deserted  walls. 
The  thick  hanging  curtains,  embroidered  cushions, 
the  priceless  carpets,  have  all  gone  long  since,  and 
where  once  the  lute  hung  are  now  suspended  revolvers, 
swords,  and  cartridge  belts. 

The  building  next  in  importance  to  the  one  which 
I  have  just  endeavoured  to  describe  was  quite  a 
modern  affair ;  it  had  been  a  school,  but  is  now  given 
over  to  the  use  of  the  E,ed  Crescent.  Frock-coated, 
white-collared  gentlemen  wearing  the  fez,  requested 
the  pleasure  of  my  company  to  a  welcome  dinner. 
I  very  gladly  availed  myself  of  the  invitation,  and 
sat  down  once  more  to  a  meal  worthy  of  a  Parisian 
restaurant.  The  wines  of  the  best,  a  table  of  four 
courses,  and  dessert ! 

I  found  it  to  be  the  occasion  of  the  return  of 
Biphat  and  Jussef  Beys  from  a  visit  to  Paris.  They 
had  come  to  take  charge  of  the  hospital,  and  they 
pointed  out  to  me  with  pardonable  pride  the  well- 
ordered    wards,    the    cases    of    drugs,    the    surgical 


8o    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

instruments,  and  so  on.  In  fact  there  was  nothing 
to  find  any  fault  with  at  all.  Everything  was  as 
comfortable  and  up  to  date  as  in  a  modern  hospital 
in  London.  I  recognised  some  of  my  old  friends  of 
Ain  Zara  now  recovering  rapidly,  and  anxious  to 
return  to  fight  once  more  for  the  Sultan.  Of  those 
who  benefited  the  most  were  many  Italian  prisoners 
— "  the  Signors,"  as  they  were  respectfully  and  kindly 
spoken  of  I  saw  five  of  them  playing  quoits  in 
the  compound,  and  thoroughly  enjoying  themselves. 
The  ordinary  soldier  garb  had  long  since  been  worn 
out,  and  with  amusing  incongruity  they  were  now 
dressed  in  Turkish  uniforms.  A  man  named  Garganti, 
one  of  their  number,  had  been  badly  shot  through  the 
elbow,  but  thanks  to  the  skill  of  Eiphat  his  arm  was 
saved,  but  never  to  be  of  much  use  again.  He  talked 
to  me  of  his  far-off  home,  and  how  he  longed  to  get 
there,  and  how  at  the  end  of  the  war  he  was  to  retire 
with  a  pension  of  1000  lire  a  month. 

A  small  house  was  placed  at  their  disposal,  and 
also  a  cooking  shed.  I  could  not  help  thinking  that 
they  were  probably  far  more  comfortable  there  than 
many  of  their  comrades  in  Tripoli ;  and  yet  when  the 
distant  thunder  of  the  big  guns  faintly  echoed 
through  the  valley  maybe  they  hoped  the  time 
of  their  deliverance  was  at  hand.  But  these  were 
not  the  only  captives,  four  Ascharis  (native  troops) 
shared  the  house  with  Garganti  and  his  fellow- 
prisoners. 

Major  Paget  and  I  tried  to  soften  their  captivity 


I   CONTINUE   MY  JOURNEY  8i 

with   presents  of  cigarettes    and    tobacco,   to  which 
their  good-natured  gaolers  never  objected  at  all. 

On  the  last  occasion  of  my  visit  I  noticed  that  the 
Aschari  seemed  buoyed  up  and  more  than  usually 
cheerful,  and  that  they  were  keeping  themselves 
apart  from  the  others.  The  next  morning  we  heard 
that  three  Italian  prisoners  had  managed  to  escape, 
but  later  in  the  afternoon  the  news  came  in  that  they 
had  been  recaptured.  Quite  a  crowd  assembled  to  see 
these  wretched  chaps  return.  It  seems  that  they  had 
marched  for  five  hours  and  managed  to  reach  the 
spring  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  Here  they 
were  detected  and  pounced  upon  by  the  watchful  gen- 
darmes, who  roped  them  together  and  marched  them 
back.  I  never  saw  such  a  hungry,  tired,  hopeless  look- 
ing lot  of  men  when  they  arrived  after  their  ten  hours 
of  freedom,  without  food  or  water.  They  were  well 
treated  by  the  Turks  and  not  punished,  excepting 
that  all  privileges  were  stopped.  Poor  Garganti 
and  his  fellow-soldiers  were  all  confined  in  the  old 
Arab  castle  when  I  last  saw  them  just  before  I  left. 
Before  I  started  I  made  several  pleasant  excursions 
with  my  medical  friends,  and  I  was  surprised  at  the 
richness  and  beauty  of  the  country  all  around.  But 
we  were  not  without  occasional  reminders  that  the 
business  of  war  was  proceeding  apace,  for  reinforce- 
ments were  continually  coming  in  from  the  far  distant 
Fezzan  and  the  further  oasis  of  the  Sahara. 


F 


CHAPTER    IX 

BACK  TO  AZIZIA 

I  WAS  sorry  to  leave  Gherien ;  the  contemplation 
of  a  return  to  the  dust  and  dirt  of  Azizia  was  not 
a  very  pleasing  prospect.  At  the  head  of  the  pass 
I  stood  and  contrasted  the  dusty  plain  below, 
quivering  in  the  noontide  heat,  with  the  delightful 
comfort  of  the  cool  mountain  breezes  which  I  was 
leaving  behind  me.  I  travelled  all  the  day,  and 
reached  my  destination  at  five  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. I  was  pleased  to  find  some  new  arrivals ; 
a  Mr.  Bennett,  ex-M.P.,  and  Captain  Bettleheim,  of 
South  African  fame,  a  trim,  soldierly-looking  man, 
with  a  keen,  alert  look.  I  almost  felt  ashamed  of 
the  comparison  between  my  travel-worn  suit  and 
his  elegant  Bond  Street  attire.  Mr.  G.  F.  Abbott 
was  there  too ;  he  is  the  great  authority  upon  all 
things  Eastern,  and  had  come  to  write  the  history 
of  this  war. 

I  felt  gratified  by  the  warmth  of  the  welcome 
that  I  received  from  Neshet  Bey  and  his  staff".  I 
noticed,  however,  with  much  regret,  that  there  were 
more  hospital  tents  now,  and  they  seemed  to  be 
crowded.  Salim  pitched  my  tent  on  the  hill,  upon 
the  track  leading  to  the   cemetery,  sq  th9<t  ^it  least 

8a 


THE   GUARD 


AZIZIA 


BACK   TO   AZIZIA  83 

half  a  dozen  times  a  day  I  was  compelled  to  listen 
to  the  weird  chant  of  the  mourners  and  bearers  as 
they  were  carrying  one  or  another  of  the  holy 
warriors  to  his  last  long  rest.  On  Christmas  Eve 
I  fell  ill  with  a  complaint  that  was  soon  pronounced 
to  be  dysentery,  and  I  spent  the  most  memorable 
and  most  miserable  Christmas-time  that  I  have  ever 
known.  The  death  chants  now  seemed  to  have  some 
real  meaning  for  me,  and  possibly  with  the  best 
intentions  in  the  world  an  aged  camel  deposited 
himself  immediately  at  the  back  of  my  tent  and 
groaned  his  last. 

This  of  itself  was  enough  to  poison  anybody, 
and  yet  the  carcass  was  left  there  to  decompose 
and  breed  all  manner  of  flies  and  pestilence  simply 
because  it  was  nobody's  business  to  bury  it.  Medi- 
cine and  medical  attendance  were  almost  entirely 
lacking  here,  so  that  feeling  more  dead  than  alive 
I  made  up  my  mind  to  cure  myself  by  the  most 
drastic  method  that  I  could  devise,  but  it  had  the 
desired  effect  at  all  events.  "  Salim,"  I  said,  "  to- 
morrow get  five  camels  ready  and  I  shall  ride  to 
Tunis,  because  I  feel  that  the  air  of  the  desert  is 
the  only  thing  that  will  cure  me." 

I  was  looked  upon  as  being  mad,  and  the  doctors 
tried  to  dissuade  me  from  going,  but  indeed  I  felt 
so  ill,  and  so  absolutely  indifferent  as  to  the  conse- 
quences that  I  was  determined  to  risk  it.  The  camels 
arrived  early  in  the  morning,  but  through  the  usual 
dilatory  tactics  on  the  part  of  the  drivers  I  did  not 


84    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

get  oflf  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  my  friend 
Bennett  accompanied  me.  At  the  outset  my  camel 
man  lost  the  way,  and  consequently  we  did  not  reach 
the  fonduk  until  midnight.  The  valiant  Salim,  who 
had  already  reproved  me  as  a  naughty  child,  seized 
a  rifle  and  threatened  to  shoot  the  guide  for  losing 
his  master,  as  he  called  me,  and  was  only  disarmed 
by  Bennett  after  the  greatest  difliculty.  However, 
trips  to  Tunis  are  not  particularly  interesting  to 
relate,  and  suffice  it  to  say  that  I  eventually  covered 
the  thousand  mile  journey,  feeling  better  every  day 
during  my  kill  or  cure  treatment ;  had  a  pleasant 
month  with  my  friends  in  that  delightful  city,  and 
then  returned  to  my  duties,  feeling  a  different  man 
altogether. 

Full  of  gratitude  to  my  charming  hosts,  I  brought 
ten  camels  loaded  with  luxuries  and  delicacies  of 
various  kinds  for  the  benefit  of  those  whom  I  had 
left  behind  me  at  headquarters.  I  was  received  by 
Neshet  himself  and  Fethi  Bey,  who  personally  saw 
to  the  pitching  of  my  tent.  I  was  delighted  to  be 
with  them  again,  but  it  was  painful  to  me  to  notice 
the  change  in  my  hitherto  irrepressibly  lively  com- 
panions. The  utter  boredom  from  inaction  had  entirely 
prostrated  them ;  even  with  such  soldiers  as  these 
Turks,  who  do  and  suffer  without  complaint,  one  saw 
in  the  worn  and  wistful  faces  the  pathetic  result  of 
the  hope  deferred  that  maketh  the  heart  sick. 

We  unloaded  the  ten  camels  of  their,  to  us,  wel- 
come burdens  in  the  compound  inside  the  Kazan  or 


BACK   TO   AZIZIA  85 

barracks,  a  compound  of  dirt,  industry,  and  animals. 
The  camel  is  an  extraordinary  animal,  probably  little 
known  to  my  readers  beyond  the  happy  memories  of 
rides  years  ago  in  the  beautiful  gardens  of  the  Zoo- 
logical Society.  I  so  well  remember  that  as  we  were 
hard  at  this  job  of  relieving  the  animals  of  their 
burdens  they  were  all  the  time  groaning,  squeaking, 
and  gurgling.  This  so-called  beast  of  burden  seems 
to  have  every  note  of  complaint  in  his  vocabulary, 
and  the  predominant  note  seems  to  be  ever  one 
of  lamentation.  He  grumbles  when  lying  down, 
protests  whilst  he  is  being  loaded,  and  when  he  is 
at  last  relieved  of  his  burden,  you  may  not  stand 
in  front  of  him,  neither  may  you  pass  him  by,  without 
the  calling  forth  of  the  most  venomous  animal  curses 
ever  given  vent  to. 

I  have  often  tried  to  analyse  his  vocal  repertoire 
in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  discover  his  meaning 
either  in  love  or  war ;  but  it  is,  under  any  condition, 
ever  the  same  bitter  cry. 

But  with  all  his  defects  of  temper  he  is  by  far 
the  most  useful  of  all  beasts  of  burden  as  a  transport 
animal.  The  most  patient,  docile,  untiring  creature, 
he  covers  hundreds  of  leagues  of  desert  without  any 
proper  food  or  water,  plodding  steadily  on  at  the 
average  rate  of  2J  kilometres  an  hour,  like  as  one 
born  to  the  track. 

He  follows  in  the  immediate  steps  of  his  leader, 
and  no  caravan  is  complete  without  the  frivolous  little 
baby   camels,    pretty    little    things   in   coats   of   the 


86    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

softest  mouse-grey,  always  carefully  clipped  with  the 
exception  of  a  pompon-like  tuft  on  the  top  of  his 
baby  hump,  which  gives  him  a  "  nutty  "  rakish  look. 
At  a  very  early  age  he  begets  wisdom,  and  takes  his 
station  in  the  line.  His  solemn,  soft,  and  wondering 
eyes,  seemingly  gazing  at  nothing  at  all  as  he  strides 
along,  are  wonderfully  pretty ;  and  like  the  patient 
ass  he  seldom  is  bridled,  but  directed  by  voice  and 
stick,  and  indeed  without  him  the  sands  of  Tripoli 
would  never  be  crossed. 

The  principal  side  of  the  Kazan  faces  the  bazaar, 
and  irregular  terraces  of  buildings  occupy  two  others. 
The  fourth  side,  facing  the  headquarters,  is  a  fair- 
sized  building  that  had  been  the  schoolhouse,  and 
was  now  a  hospital.  I  found  a  great  stir  and  hum  of 
life.  There  were  sellers,  merchants  from  all  parts, 
exposing  their  wares  on  the  ground.  Dusty  meat, 
fish,  sugar,  vegetables,  and  tea.  There  were  dry 
goods  and  knick-knacks  selling  freely  in  the  ragged 
booths,  fowls,  and  goat  flesh,  the  chief  article  of  diet, 
and  pepper  seemed  to  be  the  most  popular  condiment. 
Added  to  this  eager  hum  of  business  were  the  various 
noises  of  quarrelling  and  bargaining,  of  camels  roaring 
and  stallions  squealing,  a  confusion  almost  paralysing 
to  the  Western  ear. 

Two  new  hospital  marquees  were  fixed  up,  capable 
of  accommodating  a  hundred  patients,  and  they  filled 
up  nearly  all  of  the  available  space  in  this  canvas 
town,  which  had  been  devoted  to  the  nursing  of  the 
sick   and  wounded.     I  visited   these  hospitals,   as  I 


BACK   TO   AZIZIA  87 

knew  that  my  friend  Alan  Ostler  was  being  treated 
there  for  typhus  fever.  It  was  little  wonder  that  he 
contracted  the  disease,  but  it  was  amazing  that  he 
ever  recovered  from  it.  I  say  this  because  the  sanitary 
arrangements  were  too  awful  to  write  about. 

It  was  not  the  fault  of  the  local  faculty,  but  rather 
that  of  the  careless  administration  and  defective 
organisation  of  the  authorities  at  Constantinople. 
In  the  Kazan  itself  the  rooms  were  crowded  with 
sick  officers.  Jahar  Bey,  Abdul  Kadir,  Fethi,  and 
Djavid  weltered  and  stewed  in  an  airless  temperature 
of  120°,  the  only  window  being  hermetically  sealed 
and  the  door  closed.  Nearly  all  the  doctors  were  ill 
with  various  complaints,  and  were  confined  in  another 
dormitory.  The  only  live  man  about  was  the  com- 
mandant, for  he  still  kept  at  his  strenuous  duties, 
although  far  from  being  well.  The  telegraphists  too 
stuck  to  it  bravely.  The  dinners  had  improved  con- 
siderably, and  we  sat  down  to  meals  no  longer 
squatting  or  eating  with  our  fingers  out  of  one 
common  dish,  for  plate,  glass,  and  clean  linen  gave  an 
air  of  comfort  and  refinement.  All  the  time  that  we 
were  dining  a  pair  of  swallows  twittered  above  the 
table.  They  were  nesting  in  one  of  the  beams  over- 
head, and  as  they  volplaned  in  and  around  us  they 
were  wittily  compared  to  the  Italian  aeroplanes  that 
had  worried  us  to  a  far  greater  extent. 

These  staff  dinners  are  serious  affairs.  No  one 
speaks  at  all,  but  stolidly  fills  up ;  and  no  one  waits 
for  the  ladies  to  leave  the  festive  board,  each  person 


88    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

going  outside  when  he  has  finished  his  meal  to  per- 
form his  ablutions.  Coffee  is  generally  partaken  of 
in  the  commandant's  room,  where  business  goes  on 
often  until  the  early  hours  of  the  morning. 

Hard  work  benefits  the  Turk  as  it  does  every- 
one else.  The  General  had  thoroughly  got  the  grip 
of  affairs,  and  work  went  on  almost  automatically. 
The  one  predominant  desire  was  to  come  to  handgrips 
with  the  foe  and  settle  the  question  of  Tripolitan  once 
and  for  all. 

Neshet  talked  of  retiring  to  Gherien,  where  his 
guns  commanded  the  formidable  passes,  as  a  move  of 
this  kind  he  thought  might  draw  the  Italians  from 
the  shelter  of  their  positions  and  give  his  warriors 
a  chance  of  getting  on  the  flanks  and  rear  of  the 
enemy,  but  to  this  the  Arab  Sheiks  always  objected. 

Their  ideas  of  strategy  being  very  limited,  were 
confined  to  a  rush  and  an  annihilation  of  the  enemy, 
for  anything  like  a  movement  to  the  rear  would  be 
entirely  misinterpreted  or  be  construed  as  flying  from 
so  contemptible  a  foe.  The  Arab  contingent  were 
determined  that  they  would  either  melt  away,  or 
throw  themselves  against  the  fortified  positions  of  the 
enemy  and  die  gloriously.  This  code  of  chivalry  is 
carried  to  such  an  extent  with  these  extraordinary 
people  that  not  the  slightest  attempt  is  made  to 
construct  bomb-proof  protection  against  aerial  bombs. 

"  We  have  to  be  most  cautious,"  said  Izak  Bey  to 
me  one  day,  "  against  doing  anything  that  looks  like 
showing  the  white  feather.     We  know  that  we  ought 


BACK   TO   AZIZIA  89 

to  take  many  precautions  which  we  omit  to  take,  but 
it  would  be  a  mistake,  for  these  Arabs  would  call 
us  cowards,  and  no  one  can  imagine  what  would 
happen." 

Later  on  I  saw  how  true  was  his  estimate  of  the 
Arab  character,  as  I  saw  how  amazingly  the  army 
grew.  From  the  distant  Sahara  and  beyond,  from 
the  Barbary,  Egypt,  the  Soudan,  even  Lake  Tchad, 
supplied  its  contingents.  Fuzzan  sent  the  prime  of 
its  manhood,  of  the  finest  fighting  force  in  the  wide 
world. 

Amazons  accompanied  them  too  in  great  numbers. 
There  is  a  story  told  of  a  league  composed  entirely 
of  women,  in  all  about  forty  of  them,  banded  together 
in  spite  of  all  objections,  who  vowed  to  take  the  sword 
and  gun,  and  help  their  men-folk  to  drive  the  infidel 
out  of  the  country.  Let  me  picture  one,  Selima,  as 
I  remember  her,  a  stocky  pock-marked  damsel,  not 
beautiful,  but  possessing  a  perfect  manner  and  the 
sweetest  of  voices.  Squatting  at  the  entrance  to  my 
tent,  she  had  just  arrived  from  the  trenches,  armed 
with  Italian  rifle  and  bandolier,  a  scimitar,  and  a 
long  lance,  once  the  arm  of  some  unfortunate  Italian 
picket  whom  she  had  surprised.  She  sat  there  talk- 
ing of  battle  and  fighting  as  if  she  were  reading  me 
out  some  choice  menu.  The  fires  of  enthusiasm 
gleamed  in  her  dark  eyes  as  she  told  of  how  she  had 
been  shooting  at  the  enemy  for  two  or  three  months. 
The  rifle  that  she  held,  as  the  lance,  represented 
the  spoils  of  war.     A  truly  Spartan  mother  she  will 


90    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

make,  for  as  yet  no  man  may  claim  her  as  a  wife 
until  he  does  his  devoir  in  strict  accordance  with  her 
lofty  ideals ;  a  competition  undertaken  by  many  a 
desert  warrior,  for  she  was  considered  a  most  desir- 
able prize  in  the  matrimonial  market.  I  think  that 
I  can  see  her  now,  sitting  quietly  in  the  blazing  sun, 
drinking  her  coffee,  and  confidently  predicting  a  speedy 
entrance  into  Tripoli,  in  her  dreamy  musical  voice. 
Shortly  after  I  heard  she  was  harem ;  she  had  be- 
come the  bride  of  a  young  Sheik,  who  showed  nine 
"  decorations  "  to  his  credit. 

All  our  reinforcements  came  by  the  road  from 
Gherien.  One  morning  the  news  came  that  ten  or 
twenty  thousand  men  were  coming  in  that  night. 
Just  about  sunset  well-disposed  bodies  of  men,  con- 
sisting of  about  one  thousand  in  all,  and  led  by  their 
war  Sheiks,  fine  bold  horsemen,  sitting  their  prancing 
stallions  with  wonderful  ease  and  grace,  started  ofi", 
longing  for  a  fight. 

The  hauteur  and  pride  of  these  Sheiks  adds  some- 
what to  their  natural  dignity.  I  noticed  that  they 
scarcely  deigned  a  glance  to  the  humble  toilers  who 
salaamed  humbly  from  the  roadside  as  they  passed. 
The  minstrels  marched  ahead,  beating  their  war 
drums,  and  chanting  their  battle  songs  in  high  stac- 
cato voices.  The  air  vibrated  and  throbbed  to  the 
deep-noted  chorus  of  the  warriors  who  followed.  It 
was  of  Oulad'hu  zin,  which  means,  "  Sons  of  mighty 
fathers."  The  martial  scene  was  thrilhng  in  the 
extreme,  and  the  excitement  contagious  as  they  came 


BACK   TO   AZIZIA  91 

along,  and  the  very  earth  seemed  to  tremble  beneath 
their  tramp.  Sheik  Barouni,  with  his  bodyguard 
and  his  escort  of  zaptirs,  clad  in  blue  with  scarlet 
facings,  added  a  splash  of  colour  to  the  otherwise  mo- 
notonous tone  of  the  dirty  hrams.  Last  of  all  came 
the  baggage  camels,  loaded  with  a  very  small  supply 
of  flour,  carrying  principally  fagots  of  wood  that  had 
been  picked  up  en  route.  The  leading  warriors  were 
all  more  or  less  well  armed  with  Turkish  rifles, 
ancient  flint  muskets,  with  barrels  five  feet  long,  old 
blunderbuss  pistols,  without  locks.  Spear-sticks  even 
made  up  the  equipment  of  the  rear  ranks  of  the 
regiment. 

In  one  respect  they  were  equal,  and  that  was  in 
their  staying  powers  and  capability  for  standing  any 
amount  of  hardship  and  fatigue.  All  of  them,  too, 
filled  with  the  same  burning  enthusiasm  for  God,  the 
Sultan,  and  the  sacred  cause.  They  reminded  me  on 
more  than  one  occasion  of  the  old  Covenanters.  One 
could  scarcely  help  sympathising  with  their  cause, 
which,  according  to  all  national  rights,  is  just.  Should 
the  same  circumstances  ever  arise  in  our  own  country, 
one  would  wish  to  see  the  same  devoted  patriotism. 

Each  and  every  nomad  looked  forward  with  joy 
to  the  prospect  of  arming  himself  at  the  expense  of 
the  invader.  Such  times  have  never  been  known  in 
Tripoli ;  hundreds  of  thousands  of  good  golden  pounds 
were  tied  up  in  the  hrams  of  these  doughty  warriors. 
They  had  received  regular  pay,  plenty  of  food,  and 
above   all,  the   chances  of  booty  and  horses   galore. 


92    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

The  camel  men  also  shared  in  the  general  prosperity. 
There  had  never  been  more  caravans  on  the  move, 
and  five  shillings  a  day  is  the  Government  rate  of 
pay. 

I  selected  my  camping  place  about  a  thousand 
yards  out  on  the  plain,  where  the  ozone-laden  west 
wind  blew  straight  in  from  the  desert,  so  pure  and 
sweet,  a  tonic  like  the  finest  champagne,  and  I 
appreciated  it  all  the  more  after  the  foul  breath  of 
the  Kazan.  My  neighbour  was  Nazmi  Bey,  who  was 
commanding  a  small  detachment  of  cavalry.  He  was 
most  generous  in  helping  me  to  set  up  the  tents. 

The  rains  brought  to  light  a  beautiful  collection 
of  flowers ;  from  the  tall  asphodel,  with  its  cluster  of 
star-like  flowers,  to  the  lowly  marguerite  of  various 
shades.  A  miniature  blue  iris  studded  the  little 
prairie,  and  my  horses  greatly  appreciated  the  juicy 
grass.  For  once  even  the  camels  ceased  their  eter- 
nal complaint,  for  they  were  stufied  almost  to  bursting, 
and  lay  basking  in  the  brilliant  sunshine. 


CHAPTER   X 

CAMP  LIFE 

My  camp  gradually  became  a  sort  of  rendezvous 
nearly  every  evening.  The  charm  of  rest,  rest  for 
the  mind  as  well  as  for  the  body,  was  delightful. 
No  disturbing  sounds,  but  the  soothing  soft  rustle 
of  the  herbage  when  swept  by  light  zephyrs.  The 
fragrant  coflfee  and  cigarettes,  and  the  low  musical 
language  of  the  East,  produces  an  almost  dreamlike 
sensation.  Some  of  my  visitors  squatted  cross-legged 
upon  my  brilliant  carpets,  others  patronised  my 
lounge  chair,  Neshet  and  Fethi  often  came  with 
some  Arab  notables  to  pay  me  a  visit.  The  talk 
turned  naturally  upon  the  immediate  condition  of 
affairs,  and  of  the  future.  I  heard  high  hopes  dis- 
cussed, but  ever  the  same  fear  that  the  sly  diplomacy 
of  Europe  may  yet  wrench  the  hard-won  independ- 
ence from  these  desert  men. 

"Yes,"  said  Feshet  Bey,  the  Arab  deputy  for 
Zarwia,  "  the  European  diplomats  are  very  clever ; 
we  may  well  dread  the  result.  But,"  he  said  more 
fiercely,  "whether  Turkey  gives  up  the  fight  or  is 
forced  into  making  peace  does  not  matter  to  us  at 
all.  We  are  the  native  sons  of  the  soil,  and  we 
shall  fight  as  long  as  there  is  one  man  left  to  hold  a 

93 


94    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

rifle,  and  then  pass  on  the  settlement  of  the  quarrel 
to  our  sons.  We  don't  want  Italy  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  our  Government.  Had  it  been  England — 
yes,  that  would  have  been  different.  If  we  must 
have  a  foreign  occupation  let  it  be  British,  because 
we  know  the  benefits  that  have  resulted  from  British 
rule  in  Egypt.  But  these  Italians  will  only  exploit 
us  for  selfish  reasons,  and  give  us  no  chance.  We 
might  be  bribed  with  positions  of  influence  and  trust 
for  a  season,  but  all  the  time  the  Italians  would  be 
scheming  as  to  how  to  supplant  us  and  put  their 
own  men  in  power  in  our  places.  What  about  dis- 
arming, too  ?  Of  course,  we  should  never  be  trusted 
again  with  rifles,  even  to  defend  our  own  homes. 
How  are  we  to  behave  ?  What  are  we  to  think 
of  the  power  of  Italy  after  such  a  debacle  as  we 
have  actually  witnessed  ?  No,  we  quite  understand 
the  policy  of  Europe  ;  now  perhaps  too  late  we  know  ; 
or,  like  Europe's  diplomats,  we  must  frame  a  policy 
on  probabilities,  listen  to  no  more  honeyed  promises 
or  paper  treaties,  but  take  our  stand  on  principles 
alone. 

*'  The  object-lesson  which  every  child  can  see  is 
that  the  Governments  of  the  world  to-day  admit  of 
no  right,  save  one,  and  that  is  force.  God  has  given 
us  a  country,  a  nationality ;  but  unless  that  land 
is  sown  with  guns,  then  the  first  European  who 
is  strong  enough  to  do  so  can  claim  and  take  it ! " 
Herein  lies  the  puzzle  to  the  Asiatic  world. 

The    setting    sun    warned    my    visitors    of    the 


CAMP   LIFE  95 

difficulty  of  threading  their  way  home  through 
patches  of  thorny  scrub.  At  night  we  had  to 
carry  lanterns,  moving  in  silence  like  so  many  will- 
o'-the-wisps.  Day  after  day  of  this  idle  life  made 
time  hang  wearily.  I  tired  of  the  eternal  splendour 
of  the  day,  and  towards  noon  the  heat  carries  a 
sting  with  it.  The  flowers  wither  and  welt  in  it. 
Nazmi  and  I  arranged  a  sort  of  mess  together ;  on 
alternate  days  we  had  meals  in  each  other's  tent. 
Nazmi  is  one  of  the  smartest  officers  in  service 
— tall,  well  built,  his  fine  athletic  figure  fills  out 
his  well-built  khaki.  No  Sackville  Street  man 
could  tailor  him  better.  There  is  something  besides 
smartness,  though,  for  he  has  a  soldier's  heart,  daring 
everything,  fearing  nothing — a  heau  sabreur.  His 
men  are  well  set  up  too,  not  slovenly  clad,  for  even  the 
rags  that  some  of  the  poor  fellows  have  from  necessity 
to  wear  are  smartly  put  on.  Like  all  Turks,  he  is 
a  fatalist.  He  knows  his  job,  and  he  wants  a  chance 
of  surprising  the  enemy,  but  with  the  insignificant 
body  of  cavalry  he  can  do  little  or  nothing.  About 
this  time  I  heard  that  the  enemy  had  shown  some 
activity  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Zanzur  and  Sanii 
beni  Adem.^  And  so  with  the  permission  of  the 
commandant  I  removed  my  establishment  to  the 
last-named  place.  The  camels  started  in  good  time, 
with  orders  to  pitch  the  tent  and  have  everything 
ready.     I  rode  on  after  lunch ;   the  distance  is  only 

1  Sanii  beni  Adem  means  the  garden  of  Adam,  but  there  seems  no 
reason  for  such  a  flowery  name,  unless  two  clumps  of  attenuated  palm 
trees  shading  a  draw-well  justify  it. 


96    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

twenty  miles,  and  I  calculated  upon  reaching  it  some- 
time about  sundown. 

The  camp  itself  lies  about  a  mile  to  the  east,  where 
I  could  see  the  white  tents  in  the  warm  evening  glow. 
Horses  were  coming  and  going  to  the  water ;   camp 
followers  in  their  picturesque  rags  and  beggars  lined 
the  road  ;  squads  of  soldiers  added  a  touch  of  military- 
life  to  the  scene.     I  was  received  by  Muheddin  Bey, 
a  bimbashi   or   major   in    the    Turkish  cavalry.     He 
commands  the  western  division,  is  second  to  Neshet, 
and  should  anything  untoward  happen  to  the  general 
he  would   take   command.     I    entered   his   big  bell- 
shaped  tent,  and  found  it  quite  well  furnished,  and 
certainly  up  to  date  in  one  respect,  for  upon  an  old 
packing-case,  which  served  as  an  office  table,  stood 
a  telephone !     "  Our  new  scout,"  he  said,  touching  it 
gently.     "  The  outposts  at  Zanzur  are  linked  up,  and 
any  serious  move  on  the  part  of  the  enemy  is  reported 
at  once."     Not  a  word  of  this  new  feature  had  leaked 
out,  it  was  hoped,  to  the  Italians,  for  the  keeping  of 
this  secret  meant,  perchance,  the  defeat  of  the  enemy. 
Hitherto  when  the  Italians  were  "  out,"  at  least  three 
good  hours  elapsed  ere  the  news  came  in.     We  hoped 
that  the  enemy  might  not  be  in  a  position  to  take 
this  new  factor    into  consideration   in  making  their 
plans  and  so  give  us   time   to  surprise  them.     But 
somehow  the  Italians  learnt  of  it,  and  I  afterwards 
discovered  that  the  camp  swarmed  with  their  spies, 
who  kept  our  foes  in  Tripoli  posted  up  in  this  and  in 
nearly  everything  else  that  happened.     A  camp  bed 


MUHEDDIN  ADDRESSING  HIS  MEN  BEFORE  THE  EIGHT,  ZANZUR 


THE   RALLY 


CAMP   LIFE  97 

and  one  or  two  shaky  chairs  completed  the  furniture, 
whilst  carpets  were  laid  upon  the  ground  for  Arab  visi- 
tors. Muheddin  is  a  young  Turk,  in  both  senses  of  the 
word,  and  a  good  soldier.  In  front  of  his  tent  stood  a 
pavilion  :  four  strong  uprights  of  date-wood  supported 
a  canopy  of  waterproof  sheeting,  once  the  property 
of  some  Italian  officer.  Beneath  this  on  torrid  days 
the  commandant  conducted  his  business.  His  camp  is 
carefully  planned  and  well  laid  out.  There  were  many 
conveniences  there  which  were  lacking  in  others ;  the 
long  lines  of  picketed  horses  were  regularly  attended 
to,  horse-guards  looking  well  after  their  wants. 

The  organisation  even  extended  to  myself.  Old 
Salim,  my  Arab  henchman,  is  a  great  believer  in 
the  old  method  of  "go  as  you  please,"  but  here 
for  the  first  time  a  controlling  influence  prevented 
his  pitching  my  tent  where  he  liked,  but  appointed 
a  place,  and  also  the  spot  for  my  horses  and  camels. 
The  camp  was  on  a  vast  treeless  plain,  bountifully 
supplied  with  a  variety  of  flowers  and  grasses. 
The  air  is  bracing  and  invigorating,  and  it  is  alto- 
gether a  desirable  dwelling-place.  Around  us,  in  the 
distance,  like  a  great  ring,  were  set  the  picturesque 
black  tents  of  the  Arab  encampments. 

To  me  there  is  always  something  very  attractive 
in  the  lively  sounds  of  military  life :  the  call  of  the 
bugle  and  the  clatter  of  arms.  I  used  to  rise 
early,  watch  the  drilling,  and  take  walks  in  the 
district  before  the  heat  of  the  day  made  walking 
uncomfortable. 

G 


98    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Here  the  romance  of  the  past  coloured  the 
present.  Like  the  legions  of  ancient  Rome,  we  sat 
in  tents.  Like  them,  we  ate  and  drank  beside  the 
self-same  wells.  Similar  meals,  similar  methods  of 
cooking ;  even  our  amphorae,  or  water  jars,  have  not 
changed  in  shape,  colour,  or  design  through  all  the 
centuries.  The  horses,  too,  are  the  same  hardy 
breed  as  those  that  fought  and  kicked  each  other 
in  the  Roman  lines.  The  Arab  saddles,  with  their 
high  pommels,  in  many  cases  stirrupless,  are  built 
on  the  lines  of  the  early  Roman  model.  The 
many-coloured  trappings  have  not  been  altered  ; 
everything,  indeed,  reminds  one  of  old  times.  I 
can  see  the  same  soft-eyed  maids  of  Araby  moving 
in  and  out  amongst  the  horses,  picking  up  the 
grains  of  barley  that  the  beasts  have  dropped. 
Truly  classic  they  look  as  they  return  homewards 
carrying  the  sieve  hanging  behind  their  heads, 
giving  the  impression  of  a  halo  in  the  pictures  of 
saints.  The  grain  is  ground  by  their  mothers 
with  the  actual  stones  used  a  thousand  years 
since. 

But  to  come  back  to  facts.  I  liked  the  place 
well.  I  love  space  and  air — here  untainted  as  yet 
by  filth  and  flies.  It  was  a  cheery,  brisk  life. 
Pickets  going  to  the  advance  posts  regularly  night 
and  morning,  for  we  were  in  touch  with  many 
places.  The  Italian  outposts  were  within  shouting 
distance  of  our  own. 

The    western    division,    that    district    which    lies 


CAMP   LIFE  99 

between  the  Italian  lines  and  our  own,  was  divided 
roughly  into  two  parts.  The  eastern  section,  under 
the  command  of  Hamid  Bey,  whose  headquarters 
are  at  Bu  Gashir,  and  the  western  by  Muheddin 
Bey,  whose  guest  I  was.  Here  again  I  found  myself 
amongst  a  number  of  old  friends :  Mahmoud  in  com- 
mand of  the  cavalry,  with  Ekrem  and  Arti,  two 
officers  of  the  Sultan's  Household  Brigade.  The 
headquarters'  camp,  with  officers'  tents  and  two  for 
hospital,  ran  east  and  west.  There  was  also  one 
other  belonging  to  Captain  Bettleheim,  and  this 
headed  a  line  of  tents  which  ran  northward. 

Between  the  horses  and  ourselves  there  were  set 
up  the  marquees  and  tents  for  the  soldiers.  I  must 
not  forget  to  mention  some  of  the  German  officers 
who  were  here  to  help  the  Turks :  Lieut.  Baron 
Dulwigs,  his  brother,  and  Lieut.  Rodenski.  They 
lived  in  a  hospital  tent  which  had  been  placed  at 
their  disposal  by  the  Turks.  They  were  attached  to 
the  cavalry,  and  we  became  the  greatest  of  friends. 
Their  duties  were  light,  principally  visiting  the 
advanced  posts  at  Mamura  and  Fonduk  Touar,  and 
riding  the  line  as  far  as  Ain  Zara. 

On  several  occasions  I  rode  with  them.  We 
could  make  out  the  Italian  pickets  through  our 
glasses,  and  doubtless  we  were  near  enough  for  them 
to  number  our  party.  It  must  have  puzzled  them 
very  much  to  notice  the  presence  of  white  men  with 
the  Arab  troops.  We  generally  started  out  at  sun- 
down, returning  early  upon  the  following  morning. 


loo    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

These  rides  I  always  enjoyed  very  much  indeed. 
Generally  we  had  coffee  at  one  or  another  of 
the  outposts,  and  then  had  a  little  sleep  in  our 
military  greatcoats.  The  return  over  the  balmy- 
scented  plains  was  delicious,  each  blade  of  grass, 
crested  with  dew,  sparkled  in  the  rising  sun  like 
diamonds.  I  always  brought  back  with  me  a  bouquet 
to  brighten  up  my  tent.  My  friends  were  so  thought- 
ful and  attentive  that,  when  for  one  reason  or  another 
I  was  unable  to  accompany  them,  they  made  it  almost 
a  point  of  duty  to  gather  a  nosegay  for  me  as  well  as 
reconnoitre  the  enemy. 

Very  interesting  were  the  Arab  camps,  pitched 
in  a  vast  semicircle  at  long  intervals,  to  give  plenty 
of  breathing  space.  My  neighbours  were  from 
Masharata,  and  all  were  renowned  warriors.  Their 
sobriquet,  "  Sons  of  the  Sword,"  was  well  earned  in 
many  a  hard- fought  field.  Captained  by  one  Sheik 
Mahomet,  their  charges  were  irresistible.  A  stout, 
jovial  old  boy  was  Sheik  Mahomet,  more  like  an  Eng- 
lish county  squire  in  appearance  than  a  holy  warrior. 
With  the  exception  of  fighting,  there  was  nothing  that 
he  liked  better  than  a  long  gossip.  Every  morning, 
as  he  passed  my  tent  on  his  way  to  that  of  the  com- 
mandant, mounted  on  a  donkey,  we  always  exchanged 
salaams,  and  often  my  good  friend  would  stop  and  join 
me  in  a  cup  of  tea,  his  favourite  beverage,  and  it  always 
awaited  him  whether  he  had  time  to  stop  or  not. 

It  was  difficult  to  realise  that  this  portly  gentle- 
man   was    such    a    dashing    leader.      No    man    more 


CAMP  LIFE  loi 

active,  and  none  with  a  greater  disdain  of  danger. 
These  quahties  made  him  one  of  the  most  popular 
of  all  the  fighting  sheiks.  He  always  saw  the  comic 
side  of  things,  and  told  many  funny  stories ;  but 
much  of  their  humour  was  lost  upon  me,  my  know- 
ledge of  Arabic  being  so  imperfect. 

One  day  we  made  up  a  party  to  visit  Zanzur, 
and  like  a  lot  of  schoolboys  given  a  day's  holiday 
we  started  off.  Even  the  horses  seemed  to  enter 
into  our  feelings,  and  prancing,  frolicking,  and  racing 
we  chivied  across  the  desert  until  we  struck  the 
Zanzur  track. 

In  part  we  ploughed  through  deep  heavy  sand- 
drifts,  and  then  again  over  lumpy  hillocks,  now 
thickly  covered  with  vegetation.  An  ideal  district 
for  defence,  every  few  hundred  yards  or  so  there 
were  ridges  and  hillocks,  each  in  themselves  a  fortress. 
Shell  fire  is  practically  harmless  in  such  a  place, 
although  we  were  always  exposed  to  the  danger 
of  them  from  aloft. 

Italy's  aerial  fleet  were  operating  in  earnest  just 
at  this  time.  Aeroplanes  we  had  always  with  us, 
but  of  the  new  terror,  "  the  Dirigible,"  and  of  its 
destructive  properties,  we  had  heard  nothing. 

We  found  that  Tahar  Bey  was  in  command  at 
Zanzur.  This  lovely  oasis  is  celebrated  for  its 
marvellous  fertility,  for  it  produces  all  kinds  of 
garden  stuff,  and  the  water-melons  grow  here  to 
such  an  enormous  size  that  I  was  told  that  a  couple 
of  them  will  sometimes  make  a  fair  camel  load. 


102    TWO  YEAKS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

As  in  all  Arab  villages,  there  was  the  Kaimakhan's 
house  and  several  Government  buildings,  all  of  them 
more  or  less  in  a  state  of  decay.  The  place  is  famous 
for  a  special  kind  of  pottery.  It  seems  that  every 
town  has  its  one  speciality  in  one  form  or  another. 
And  although  these  pots  might  be  made  elsewhere, 
so  conservative  are  the  people,  that  one  must  come 
to  Zanzur  for  this  particular  pot,  and  the  Arabs 
journey  hundreds  of  miles  to  get  them. 

The  time  of  which  I  write  was  in  the  early  spring, 
and  I  so  well  remember  the  delicate  shell-tinted 
blossoms  of  the  apricot  trees.  We  halted  in  an 
orchard  of  them,  where  the  fallen  flowers  had 
carpeted  the  fresh  green  turf,  leaving  an  impression 
of  beauty  upon  my  mind  that  I  still  retain. 

Our  luncheon  consisted  of  some  sweet  and  sour 
milk,  and  after  a  little  rest  we  started  off  for  the 
trenches.  Such  a  wild  mad  gallop  it  was  too, 
partly  because  the  rush  was  necessary  to  cover  the 
danger  zone,  over  which  an  occasional  shrapnel 
burst  from  the  guns  of  Gargerish. 

When  this  danger  was  once  passed,  the  horses 
were  left  in  a  hollow,  and  we  proceeded  to  crawl 
carefully  up  the  slopes.  The  trenches  were  primi- 
tive and  insignificant,  but  were  singularly  well 
placed,  commanding  as  they  did  the  plain  between 
them  and  the  fort  of  Gargrerish.  We  could  see  the 
Italian  gunners  quite  plainly  as  they  crowded  into 
the  embrasures  to  look  at  us.  They  evidently  did 
not  think  that  we  were   worth  wasting  a  shot   at, 


CAMP   LIFE  103 

but  had  they  known  that  the  commandant  and 
Sheik  Barouni  with  other  prominent  officers,  sheiks, 
and  others  were  there,  they  would  certainly  have 
treated  us  to  a  little  shell  storm.  The  fort  mounted 
four  guns  of  heavy  calibre,  but  the  broken  shells 
showed  that  they  were  old  patterned,  probably  once 
used  by  the  Turks  in  Tripoli.  The  Turks  suggested 
that  they  were  probably  afraid  to  risk  their  best 
guns  in  this  important  position,  as  it  was  too  far 
from  Tripoli,  and  there  was  a  certain  amount  of 
chance  that  the  Arabs  might  take  the  fort. 

The  view  was  charming.  The  flat  plain  merging 
into  ridges  of  undulating  sand  heaps,  over  which 
I  had  toiled  upon  my  march  to  Ain  Zara,  was 
now  fortified.  Besides  the  fort  there  were  brown 
lines  of  trenches  and  earthworks,  which  looked  for- 
midable enough. 

One  night,  shortly  after  this  excursion,  Barouni, 
with  some  two  hundred  of  his  men,  made  a  very 
daring  onslaught,  and  very  nearly  succeeded  in 
capturing  the  place  by  surprise,  being  eventually 
beaten  back  when  within  a  little  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  of  the  fort. 


CHAPTER  XI 

AIRSHIPS  AND  AEROPLANES  IN  WARFARE 

What  the  stupendous  and  appalling  developments 
may  be  of  the  introduction  of  aerial  conflict  into  war- 
fare yet  remains  to  be  seen.  It  only  seems  recently 
that  such  a  possibility  was  confined  to  the  romantic 
stories  of  Jules  Verne  and  other  imaginative  writers. 
To-day  it  is  an  accomplished  fact,  and  in  this  war 
between  Turkey  and  Italy  its  practical  introduction 
has  been  one  of  the  most  interesting  features  of  the 
campaign.  It  staggers  the  mind  to  think  for  one 
minute  what  it  might  lead  to  with  the  future  advance 
in  the  science  of  aerial  navigation.  One  thing  I 
know  that  it  had  done,  and  that  was  to  transform  the 
serene  life  at  Sanii  beni  Adem  into  one  of  continual 
apprehension  and  anxiety.  We  had  been  without 
much  excitement,  and  it  seemed  difficult  sometimes 
to  realise  that  we  were  at  war. 

However,  over  this  placid  state  of  existence  a 
change  was  impending,  and  it  came  when  the 
Italian  activities  recommenced  with  the  arrival  of 
the  dirigibles  P.  II.  and  P.  IH. 

A  report  came  in  one  day  to  the  effect  that  the 
enemy  were  amusing  themselves  by  flying  kites. 
Both  the    Turks   and   the  Arabs  wondered  at  this, 


BOMH    l)ISCHAR(;i;i)    FROM    IMI.    BURSTING    AS    IT 
STRIKES    THE    GROUND 


AEROPLANES   IN   WARFARE        105 

and  ridiculed  their  apparent  childishness,  and  pro- 
nounced them  mad  as  well  as  cowardly.  But  some 
of  the  officers  came  to  ask  me  if  I  could  suggest  an 
explanation.  It  immediately  occurred  to  me  that 
there  was  method  in  their  so-called  madness,  and  that 
this  kite-flying  was  a  prelude  to  much  more  serious 
business,  as  indeed  it  very  soon  proved  to  be.  One 
peaceful  morning  about  eight  o'clock  a  strange  pheno- 
menon presented  itself  in  the  sky.  Over  Tripoli  was 
hovering  what  appeared  to  be  an  indistinct  moon. 
The  sky  was  heavy,  and  a  purple  haze  obscured  the 
horizon. 

We  were  not  left  long  in  doubt  as  to  what  this 
strange  new  object  was,  for  gradually  it  turned  and 
presented  the  long  ovoid  body  of  an  airship,  a  new 
terror  for  frightening  these  unconquerable  desert  men. 
I  had  seen  it  before  manoeuvring  above  the  lagoons 
at  Venice  earlier  in  the  year.  We  all  watched  its 
motions  with  intense  interest ;  the  Turks  showed 
little  concern,  and  the  Arabs  seemed  to  think  that 
the  Italians  were  providing  a  new  target  for  them  to 
practise  at.  Rifles  were  immediately  discharged,  in 
their  usually  excited  and  erratic  manner,  although 
the  ship  was  a  good  fifteen  miles  away.  This  first 
ascent  was  evidently  only  a  trial  trip,  or  perhaps 
the  kites  had  shown  that  the  wind  was  set  in  a  wrong 
direction,  for  she  continued  to  hover  over  Tripoli. 
Probably,  too,  they  were  testing  the  engines. 

A  week  elapsed  before  the  '*  ballon,"  as  they  called 
it,  made  another  ascent,  this  time  accompanied  by  a 


io6    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

second  airship.  Together  they  proceeded  slowly  and 
gracefully  to  Zanzur,  manoeuvring  like  a  couple  of 
battleships.  They  hovered  over  Zanzur,  and  then 
circled  toward  Zarwia,  and  returned. 

That  evening  the  first  casualties  were  reported, 
and  brought  in  to  the  camp  for  treatment.  Unfor- 
tunately several  women  and  children  happened  to  be 
the  victims,  for  the  bombs  had  been  dropped  in  the 
Bazaar,  or  market-place,  killing  or  severely  injuring 
about  six  people.  One  of  the  wounded  was  a  dear 
little  baby,  and  the  poor  mite  presented  a  very 
dreadful  sight.  The  stomach  was  ripped  open  as  with 
a  butcher's  knife,  exposing  the  lungs  and  entrails. 
It  seemed  from  the  first  that  nothing  could  help 
the  poor  child,  but  Beshir  Bey  did  his  very  best,  and 
indeed  told  me  he  hoped  to  save  its  life.  But  when 
I  went  to  the  hospital  tent  to  make  inquiries  the 
next  morning,  I  found  the  poor  little  thing  dead,  and 
the  mother  very  naturally  distracted.  Although  all 
is  fair  in  love  and  war,  I  do  still  think  that  some 
little  discrimination  ought  to  have  been  observed  be- 
tween the  soldiers  and  the  non-combatants.  The  Arab 
soldiers  were  all  in  camps,  well  away  from  the  market- 
place, or  in  the  trenches,  and  this  the  airmen  could 
very  well  have  seen.  I  will  do  them  the  justice  of 
trying  to  believe  that  they  were  as  unaccustomed  to 
an  accurate  aim  as  were  their  comrades  in  the  forts 
and  on  the  battleships,  and  that  the  difficulty  of 
dropping  a  well-placed  bomb  from  a  height  is  very 
great.     But  the  fact  remains  that  the  Bazaar,  where 


AEROPLANES   IN   WARFARE        107 

we  hoped  that  the  women  and  children  would  be 
perfectly  safe,  was  a  long  distance  from  the  camp,  and 
still  farther  away  from  the  trenches.  We  were  now 
regularly  treated  to  a  most  interesting  aerial  display, 
the  ships  starting  at  eight  o'clock,  and  returning  at 
twelve  for  their  "  marcaroi,"  as  the  Arabs  said. 

The  various  villages  and  camps  were  all  syste- 
matically reconnoitred  and  attacked,  with  more  or 
less  disaster,  Zanzur  being  the  greatest  sufferer,  for 
we  counted  from  twenty  to  thirty  reports  on  each 
occasion,  and  we  heard  afterwards  that  this  was  the 
number  of  bombs  carried  by  the  ships.  Of  course 
the  headquarter  camp  of  Sanii  beni  Adem  was  not 
neglected ;  our  turn  came,  and  the  two  ships  were 
headed  direct  for  us,  swerving  very  slightly  at  times. 
The  steady  deliberate  approach  was  fascinating  to 
behold,  and  we  watched  it  with  helpless  interest  as 
they  manoeuvred  to  get  into  a  favourable  position 
for  their  fell  purpose.  As  I  have  already  observed, 
my  tent  was  close  to  headquarters,  upon  which  pre- 
sumably the  first  attack  would  be  made.  Captain 
Wake,  Major  Paget  and  myself  stood  together  outside 
my  tent,  whilst  my  friends  the  German  officers  were 
grouped  at  the  entrance  of  theirs  near  by.  Bodenski, 
I  remember,  was  armed  with  a  Mauser  rifle. 

The  most  minute  details  of  the  ships  focussed 
themselves  on  my  mind.  I  tried  to  make  out  the 
number  of  men  upon  each,  the  colours  of  the  flags 
flying  at  the  stern,  and  calculated  the  height  at 
which  they  were  sailing. 


io8    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Somehow  the  undulations  of  the  envelope  seemed 
to  give  them  a  more  terrible  and  more  realistic 
appearance,  almost  as  if  they  were  panting  to  attack 
and  destroy  us.  A  slight  smoke  wafted  from  their 
sterns,  and  caused  me  to  wonder  if  they  carried  guns 
as  well  as  bombs. 

They  then  arose  higher  and  higher,  until  the 
figure  of  the  pilot  was  no  longer  discernible,  but  still 
all  the  time  they  were  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  to  a 
position  immediately  above  us. 

I  drew  in  a  deep  breath,  such  as  a  diver  might  as 
he  looks  at  the  dark  waters  in  which  he  must  plunge 
many  yards  below.  It  was  a  sensation  of  fear  or 
apprehension,  or  an  admixture  of  both.  I  glanced 
around  the  camp,  and  was  interested  to  see  how  we 
all  stood,  absolutely  motionless  and  still,  watching 
breathlessly  for  something  to  happen.  It  seemed  that 
we  were  all  under  the  spell  of  these  eerie  monsters,  as 
they  poised  above  us  for  their  deadly  act. 

A  slight  breeze  rustled  a  piece  of  paper — the 
remains  of  a  little  bag — at  my  feet,  and  I  started 
nervously. 

Suddenly  very  faintly  the  curious  humming,  caused 
by  the  passage  of  the  bomb  falling  through  the  air, 
broke  the  silence  and  broke  the  spell.  I  could  almost 
feel  the  sob  of  relief  from  a  thousand  breasts,  before 
the  crash  of  the  explosion  took  place,  as  the  missile 
buried  itself  in  the  earth  about  fifty  yards  from  where 
we  were  standing.  I  had  my  camera  ready,  and  tried  to 
get  a  snapshot  of  the  ships,  but  could  not  focus  them 


AEROPLANES    IN    WARFARE        109 

at  such  an  altitude.  I  was  lucky  enough,  however, 
to  catch  a  picture  of  one  of  the  bombs  as  it  burst,  a 
reproduction  of  which  I  have  included  in  my  illustra- 
tions. The  ships  veered  off  after  dropping  fifteen 
bombs  amongst  us.  Immediately  they  exploded  we 
ran  like  excited  children  to  look  at  the  holes  that  had 
been  made  in  the  ground,  and  to  secure  such  portions 
as  remained  for  trophies  of  our  bombardment. 

One  or  two  unexploded  bombs  were  brought  in 
during  the  day.  These  had  fallen  on  the  softer  sand 
and  so  failed  to  discharge.  These  we  carefully  ex- 
amined and  preserved.  I  had  given  particular  orders 
to  my  servants  to  take  the  horses  out  of  the  way  and 
to  scatter,  to  lessen  the  danger  so  far  as  possible. 

Before  the  ships  reached  the  camp,  Salim  mounted 
my  Arab  horse.  Boy,  and  flew  off  across  the  desert ; 
and  the  others  left  me  to  look  after  the  camp  and 
face  the  music.  These  were  not  desert  men,  but 
Arabs  from  other  countries.  One  of  them  was  a 
Tripoli  man,  who  afterwards  proved  to  be  an  Italian 
spy.  Soon  after  the  bombardment  was  over,  and 
the  excitement  had  calmed  down,  the  valiant  Salim 
returned,  minus  shoes  and  hat,  sweating  and  laughing 
hysterically,  and  showing  every  symptom  of  being 
dead  scared.  To  use  his  own  words :  "  Wen  I  see 
ballon  come,  I  say  dey  no  kill  Boy,  but  dey  kill 
me  too,  so  I  jump  on  Boy,  dey  de  ballon.  He  look 
me ;  where  I  ride  he  come  always,  come  ober  where 
I  go.  I  make  gallop ;  I  say  dey  kill  me  first,  dey 
kill   Boy.     Bomb   he  come   one    time   close.     I   lose 


I  lo    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

shoes  and  cap,  come  off  by  de  bomb ;  now  I  make 
glad  heart  he  come,  he  go.  Oh,  my  mister,  I  feel 
sick  ;  you  no  got  brandy  for  give  me  ? " 

I  borrowed  some  whisky  for  him  from  the 
Germans ;  the  truth  was  that  the  valiant  Salim  was 
frightened  very  nearly  out  of  his  wits.  He  must 
have  ridden  my  horse  for  many  miles  into  the  desert. 
The  shock  and  excitement  brought  on  an  attack 
of  fever,  followed  by  complications,  which  laid  him 
up  for  three  months. 

There  was  a  sequel  some  weeks  afterwards,  when 
I  called  upon  Beshir  Bey,  the  doctor  in  charge  of 
the  hospital. 

I  noticed  that  he  was  wearing  a  pair  of  my 
slippers,  the  best  I  had ;  a  pair  that  had  been  a 
present  from  my  wife.  He  seemed  awfully  pleased 
with  them  too.  On  my  asking  whom  he  got  them 
from,  he  told  me  that  he  had  found  them  in  the 
sand,  outside  the  camp,  about  four  or  five  miles  off ! 

The  account  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  give 
of  our  aerial  bombardment  would  apply  to  many 
subsequent  occasions,  when  we  had  visits  of  a  similar 
character.  One  day  during  the  week  in  which  this 
first  experience  occurred,  we  noticed  that  the  Italians 
were  much  more  active  than  usual.  The  drilling 
grounds  in  front  of  Gargerish  were  ostentatiously 
paraded  every  day,  whilst  reports  from  our  advanced 
posts  kept  our  small  army  constantly  on  the  alert, 
and  prepared  at  any  moment  to  make  or  to  resist  an 
attack,  it  being  uncertain  whether  their  display  was 


AEROPLANES   IN   WARFARE       in 

merely  a  demonstration,  or  the  prelude  to  a  serious 
advance. 

For  many  days  we  were  kept  in  this  suspense, 
but  late  one  day  the  assembly  sharply  sounded. 
From  every  camp  the  warriors  came  rushing  in,  de- 
filing past  the  Staff  towards  the  front,  from  whence 
the  desultory  sounds  of  battle  were  proceeding.  As 
the  various  tribes  came  in  the  excitement  increased 
and  intensified.  The  women  were  loudly  inciting 
these  braves  to  revenge  and  glory,  but  they  wanted 
little  inciting!  The  stallions  were  squealing,  as  if 
they  too  shared  the  desires  of  their  owners,  and 
everywhere  there  was  a  wild  pandemonium  of  long- 
ing for  fighting,  the  one  ambition  of  these  fanatical 
enthusiasts. 

There  was  a  chance  too  for  more  loot,  and  that  to 
an  Arab  is  a  powerful  incentive.  Major  Paget  and  I 
mounted  our  horses  and  joined  this  apparent  rabble, 
which  presently  formed  into  some  order  as  we  set  off. 
We  had  some  difficulty  in  keeping  up  with  the  Arabs, 
who,  after  straining  like  hounds  upon  a  leash,  were 
now  urging  on  their  horses  to  the  fastest  of  their 
fleet  pace,  yelling  all  the  time  their  battle-cry  of 
"Allah  Ackbar!"  Nothing  could  be  done  to  stop 
their  impetuosity.  We  poured  through  dusty  defiles 
half-choking  with  the  clouds  of  fine  dust  which  spread 
like  a  flood  over  the  plains. 

Sheik  Barouni  and  his  war  sheiks  were  as  excited 
as  any  of  them,  waving  swords  and  guns  to  encourage 
the  ardour  of  the  clans.     The  scene  reminded  me  of 


112     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Sir  Walter  Scott's  description  of  the  advance  of  the 
Highland  clans  in   Waverley. 

The  mules  which  were  carrying  our  machine  guns 
appeared  to  swim  through  the  drifting  clouds  of  dust 
as  they  bravely  stumbled  on  through  the  heavy  sand. 
The  constant  crackling  of  musketry,  and  the  booming 
of  cannon,  located  the  whereabouts  of  the  foe.  Two 
hours'  scramble  brought  us  to  a  hummocky  country, 
admirable  for  our  tactics.  Right  ahead  of  us  was  the 
vast  slope  of  dry  sand,  like  a  golden  wall  which  hid 
the  battleground.. 

With  great  difficulty  our  leaders  brought  the  army 
to  a  halt,  whilst  skirmishing  parties  went  ahead  to 
reconnoitre.  Now  small  dots  upon  the  sandhill  showed 
where  the  scouts  were  working.  They  showed  some 
knowledge  and  sense  of  military  training  in  the 
orderly  and  methodical  manner  of  their  skirmishing 
line,  as  they  breasted  the  top,  disdaining  all  cover  in 
their  eagerness  to  get  at  the  enemy. 

The  Italians  unintentionally,  and  without  realising 
it,  have  provided  a  splendid  military  academy  for 
teaching  the  arts  of  war.  The  Arabs  now  fight  with 
more  caution ;  they  even  take  cover  sometimes,  and 
shoot  from  behind  it.  The  old-fashioned  dervish  rush 
on  which  the  Italians  had  counted  was  left  behind  at 
Suk  el  Juma  and  Zwarra. 

Sheik  Mahomet  always  says  that  this  is  not  the 
Arab  way,  and  is  not  the  bravest,  but  with  numbers 
and  with  guns  he  quite  admits  the  advantage.  I 
crept  forward  to  some  point  of  vantage  to  get  a  peep 


AEROPLANES    IN   WARFARE       113 

at  the  enemy.  To  my  surprise  I  saw  them  huddled 
up  in  square  formation.  It  seemed  that  each  soldier 
was  gathering  courage  from  feeling  the  nearness  of 
his  neighbour.  What  could  we  not  have  done  with  a 
few  field  guns !  Meanwhile  the  batteries  roared  and 
flamed,  and  shrapnel  fell  in  showers  over  our  scat- 
tered forces,  doing  fortunately  little  or  no  damage. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  some  parties  of  the  Arabs 
showed  themselves  simply  for  amusement,  or  that 
they  had  come  purposely  to  draw  the  fire  in  their 
direction,  for  they  were  running  and  laughing  at 
the  fury  of  the  cannonade  which  their  presence  had 
produced. 

Whilst  the  Italian  infantry  held  the  ground 
before  Gargerish,  a  strong  body  of  cavalry  advanced 
during  the  night  towards  Fonduk  Bu  Gashir,  upon  our 
right  flank.  Reinforcements  were  immediately  sent 
by  perhaps  the  most  wonderful  forced  march  on  record. 
The  distance  might,  roughly  speaking,  be  estimated  at 
twenty  miles,  and  the  body  actually  outflanked  the 
Italians,  who  retired  towards  Ain  Zara.  In  the 
early  hours  of  the  morning  they  ran  into  the  Arabs, 
and  a  wild  panic  and  the  most  disgraceful  retreat  took 
place,  for  the  Arabs  were  hopelessly  outnumbered. 
Then,  missing  the  road,  they  found  themselves 
swallowed  up  in  the  sandy  hillocks  of  the  desert 
sand,  and  blundering  wildly  on,  they  soon  got  separ- 
ated. Like  wolves,  the  Arab  warriors  followed,  and 
outstripping   the   fastest   horses,  a   fierce    fight   and 

a  terrible  butchery  followed. 

H 


1 14    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Very  soon  the  battle  of  Gargerish  was  decided, 
and  horses,  arms,  jewellery,  loot  of  every  sort  and 
description,  found  its  way  to  the  bazaars  of  Azizia  and 
Zarwia. 

For  once  these  fearless  fighters  had  succeeded  in 
enticing  their  fearful  invaders  to  what  they  always 
longed  for — a  hand-to-hand  fight ;  and  if  it  had  occurred 
a  score  of  times  there  could  never  be  any  question  as 
to  the  result.  They  have  no  battleships,  no  airships, 
no  bombs,  nor  any  of  the  usual  accompaniments  of 
modern  warfare;  but  they  have  strong  arms  and 
brave  hearts,  and  a  strong  sense  of  justice,  and  thus 
equipped  they  are  not  pleasant  enemies  to  meet  face 
to  face. 

The  rout  was  complete  ;  nothing  saved  the  remnant 
of  the  enemy's  cavalry  but  the  greed  of  the  Arabs, 
who  will  always  waste  precious  time  in  securing  their 
booty  before  continuing  the  pursuit.  No  persuasion 
or  threat  whatever  could  alter  this  trait  in  their 
character,  or  enable  them  to  conquer  it. 

Neshet  Bey  offered  to  pay  a  fair  estimate  of  the 
value  in  good  solid  gold,  but  the  old  proverb  of  a  bird 
in  the  hand  being  worth  two  in  the  bush  is  their 
accepted  maxim. 

The  course  of  the  fugitives  was  well  defined  by 
the  dead  and  the  heavy  articles  which  strewed  the 
plain.  It  was  a  great  victory,  but  one  from  which 
the  Turks  gained  little  but  the  wholesome  respect 
and  dread  of  the  enemy. 

After    this    life    flowed    along   more   §asil^   ^nd 


AEROPLANES   IN   WARFARE        115 

quietly.  The  dirigibles  and  aeroplanes  passed  daily 
when  the  winds  were  not  too  strong,  but  we  scarcely 
regarded  them.  We  were  expecting  a  gun  to  keep 
them  away.  The  Italians  only  possessed  two  diri- 
gibles, but  we  heard  rumours  of  the  coming  of  a 
third  one,  No.  III.  This  was  said  to  be  fitted  with 
a  gun.  Had  they  had  a  dozen  or  more  no  doubt 
our  camps  would  have  become  untenable.  About 
this  time,  at  Sanii  beni  Adem,  the  dreaded  typhoid 
fever  made  its  appearance,  and  several  soldiers  suc- 
cumbed to  it. 

Muheddin  decided  to  move  the  camp,  for,  as  he 
said,  the  desert  was  wide,  and  we  had  plenty  of 
room  in  the  choice  of  new  sites.  There  was  a  garden, 
surrounded  by  huge  walls,  in  a  tolerably  fair  state 
of  repair;  it  also  possessed  a  well,  and  it  was  at 
this  time  tenanted  by  a  small  body  of  Turkish 
infantry.  Each  soldier  lived  like  a  landed  pro- 
prietor. Date,  mulberry,  apricot,  and  other  trees 
shaded  the  place  and  supplied  them  with  fuel. 

Major  Paget  and  I  marked  out  a  tree  under 
which  we  proposed  to  put  up  the  tent  for  our 
mutual  accommodation.  But  Muheddin  decided,  per- 
haps wisely,  upon  an  open  space  in  the  sand ;  and  a 
few  hours  sufficed  to  move  the  camp  and  all  its  belong- 
ings. The  horses,  like  big  dogs,  seemed  to  appreciate 
the  change.  As  we  approached  our  new  abode,  half 
a  dozen  of  them  came  to  meet  us  with  open  mouths 
and  nostrils,  challenging  our  steeds  to  play  or  mortal 
combat,  as  they  felt  inclined. 


1 1 6    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

The  new  site  was  well  chosen.  There  was  a 
garden  upon  a  slight  rise,  iwhich  the  headquarters 
secured  for  the  mess  tent  and  commissariat.  In 
a  slight  depression  there  was  a  second  well  filled 
in  with  rubbish,  and  near  by  were  the  remains  of 
an  underground  house.  We  pitched  our  tent  in 
this  little  dip,  for  the  bank  would  break  the  force 
of  the  winds  and  there  was  also  some  little  privacy. 
In  digging  out  the  old  well  we  came  across  the 
stones  of  an  ancient  olive  mill  and  other  records 
of  a  flourishing  past.  The  spot  too  was  nearer  to 
the  fighting  line,  and  well  out  of  range  of  the  ships' 
guns,  both  most  desirable  advantages. 


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-  T-O  -    ^^      C-ZIS/y^^         


rue      M/VMOMMEOA 


/■•:fKNOTs   IN    The,    C;''?ass 


HEY       HAVE 
PRAYED 


)N,     TRIPOLI 


AIRbllll'S    IX    ALTIOX,   TRIIULI 


/^ 


CHAPTER  XII 

A   FEW  REMINISCENCES 

One  morning  when  I  was  approaching  the  com- 
pletion of  my  not  over  elaborate  toilet,  Salim, 
who  was  cleaning  my  boots  with  exertion,  in  the 
unavoidable  absence  of  boot  polish,  called  my  atten- 
tion to  the  approach  of  a  messenger.  It  was  neces- 
sarily slow,  as  he  was  somewhat  heavily  laden,  and 
moreover  was  leading  by  a  cord  a  little  fat  woolly 
lamb.  With  profound  obeisance  he  presented  to  me 
the  good  wishes  of  my  friend  Sheik  Barouni,  his 
master,  who  with  many  kind  messages  requested 
the  acceptance  of  the  lamb,  which  he  said  should 
be  roasted  whole,  a  jar  of  oil,  and  a  bottle  of  milk. 

In  the  message  he  kindly  referred  to  me  as  his 
father,  an  expression  which  in  the  East,  as  is  gene- 
rally known,  is  one  of  great  respect  and  regard.  I 
returned  my  paternal  greetings,  assured  him  of  my 
very  genuine  affection,  and  invited  him  to  call  and 
eat  and  take  coffee  with  me. 

This  may  appear  to  be  a  very  trivial  incident 
to  record,  but  it  recurs  to  me  now  with  very 
pleasant  feeling  and  memory,  as  being  illustrative 
of  the  gentle  courtesy  and  kindly  heart  of  these 
charming  people.  Salim  took  charge  of  the  little 
animal,  and   fortunately  we  were   able  to  feed   him 


1 1 8    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

well  with  the  choicest  herbs  and  grass,  both  of  which 
were  easily  accessible. 

He  was  great  fun  for  a  time,  and  eventually  be- 
came so  tame  that,  instead  of  keeping  him  tied  up 
to  a  stake  outside  the  kitchen  tent,  he  was  allowed 
to  roam  about  with  the  freedom  of  a  dog. 

My  establishment  at  this  time  had  grown  to  such 
large  proportions  that  I  had  many  serious  misgivings 
as  to  how  expenses  were  to  be  met,  but  Salim  was 
certainly  a  wonderful  manager.  I  had  six  persons 
besides  him  to  assist  me  in  various  ways. 

One  of  them,  an  Arab  captain  named  Abdullah, 
hailed  from  Mecca,  or  "  Mukka  "  as  Salim  pronounced 
it,  but  he  was  anything  but  a  holy  man.  He  had 
the  best  Arab  traits.  He  was  generous,  brave  as  a 
lion,  but  he  had  one  fatal  weakness,  a  too  keen 
appreciation  of  palm- wine,  and  when  it  happened, 
as  it  frequently  did,  that  he  gave  way  to  it,  his 
head  got  on  fire  and  he  saw  red. 

There  was  Orian,  short  and  stocky,  who  was 
supposed  to  look  to  the  grooming  of  the  horses. 
His  idea  of  grooming  was  to  brush  them  lightly 
over  and  the  operation  was  finished.  Two  or  three 
boys  assisted  in  fetching  and  carrying.  At  the  hour 
before  sunset,  when  the  work  was  supposed  to  be 
finished  for  the  day,  one  youngster  would  play  with 
the  lamb,  of  which  he  had  become  very  fond.  This 
was  all  very  well  at  first,  but  the  lamb  thrived 
and  grew  in  strength  as  well  as  in  size,  so  that 
after  one  or  two  butting  competitions,  in  which  the 


A   FEW  REMINISCENCES  119 

boy   came    off   second-best,    the    animal    had    to    be 
tethered  with  the  horses. 

Visiting  used  to  take  up  a  deal  of  my  time. 
One  day  I  would  make  a  whole  round  of  calls. 
First  I  went  to  the  tent  of  the  Germans,  where  I 
was  amused  by  watching  the  antics  of  a  pet  monkey 
which  they  had.  He  was  fond  of  chasing  the  Arab 
children,  who  took  the  keenest  delight  in  his  mis- 
chievous gambols,  but,  like  the  lamb,  he  lost  his 
popularity  somewhat  after  biting  someone  too  hard. 
Then  I  visited  the  officers'  tents,  and  finally  that 
of  Izak  or  Muheddin,  where  we  drank  tea  or  coffee. 
Whatever  these  dear  kind  people  have,  the  best  is 
not  good  enough  for  the  stranger  that  is  within  their 
gates.  At  sunset  I  would  hurry  back  to  our  camp 
ere  darkness  fell. 

It  was  very  easy  to  lose  oneself.  One  evening 
Major  Paget  and  I  were  returning  from  one  of  these 
rounds  of  calls  when  we  entirely  lost  our  way, 
although  the  tent  was  within  a  hundred  yards. 
We  were  blundering  about  when  Paget  remarked, 
"  It  must  be  somewhere  about  here."  As  if  in  reply 
a  fervent  "  Ba-a  1 "  came  from  almost  at  our  feet. 
We  overwhelmed  the  beast  with  caresses,  and  vowed 
that  we  would  never  kill  him. 

One  afternoon  there  was  tremendous  excitement. 
The  guards  rushed  to  their  horses,  and  all  the 
soldiers  were  quickly  under  arms,  thinking  that  the 
Italians  were  on  the  move.  I  hurried  to  the  com- 
mandant's tent  to  get  the  news.     I  found  Muheddin, 


I20    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Izak  Bey,  and  the  officers  anxiously  watching  the 
telephone.  Then  the  tension  was  relaxed,  and  was 
succeeded  by  an  explosion  of  laughter. 

The  information  was  of  the  capture  of  a  hoeuf 
italienne.  Rumours  came  flying  in  then  that  it  was 
a  herd  of  bullocks  that  had  been  secured,  and 
the  whole  population  hurried  off  in  the  direction  of 
Gargerish.  Presently  a  dark  cluster  of  Arabs  gesti- 
culating and  laughing  came  in  sight.  Then  we 
noticed  a  stalwart  pair  of  horns  in  the  midst  of 
them.  As  they  came  nearer  the  noise  increased  to 
an  uproar.  In  the  centre  of  the  group,  frothing 
and  furious,  marched  the  one  solitary  bull.  A  dozen 
Arabs  held  him  by  ropes  which  were  tied  to  every 
conceivable  limb,  even  round  his  ears. 

The  weight  of  the  seething  mob  urged  him  for- 
ward, whilst  the  guy  ropes  from  the  horns  steadied 
him.  Everyone  was  shouting  advice  and  instructions, 
until  at  last  the  beast  was  halted  in  front  of  the 
commandant's  tent,  when  after  being  duly  handed 
over  as  spoils  of  war  it  was  graciously  backsheeshed 
to  the  Arabs.  He  was  butchered  with  some  cere- 
mony, for  nothing  would  do  but  that  he  must  be 
despatched  with  an  Italian  bayonet. 

This  was  soon  done,  and  five  minutes  later  there 
was  not  so  much  as  a  drop  of  blood  left  upon  the 
thirsty  sand  to  mark  the  spot  where  the  last  tragedy 
took  place.  The  horns  afterwards  formed  part  of  our 
little  museum. 

The   space   around    the   commandant's    tent   was 


A    FEW  REMINISCENCES  121 

generally  littered  with  all  sorts  of  articles,  a  mis- 
cellaneous collection  of  loot,  the  products  of  Arab 
raiding  parties,  wheelbarrows,  trenching  tools,  and 
spades.  Fancy  carrying  a  wheelbarrow  over  sixteen 
miles  of  desert  rather  than  leave  it  behind.  On  one 
occasion  at  Zanzur  a  big  telegraph  post  was  cast 
up  by  the  sea,  and  was  taken  about  a  mile  inland 
and  left  upon  the  sand. 

The  work  and  trouble  of  fishing  this  cumbersome 
piece  of  loot  out  of  the  sea  and  up  the  cliffs  always 
remain  in  my  mind  as  a  monument  of  Arab  industry. 
They  secure  anything  they  possibly  can  in  the  hope 
that  at  some  time  it  may  be  useful  in  some  way. 

The  domestic  valuation  of  his  belongings  is  gener- 
ally placed  in  the  following  order  :  the  horse  he  rides, 
the  gun  with  which  he  is  such  an  expert  shot,  and 
then  his  wife.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  is  unkind 
to  her  or  neglectful  of  her,  but  the  home  life  as 
we  understand  it  necessarily  takes  up  a  very  small 
portion  of  his  life.  The  horse  is  indeed  one  of  the 
most  charming  of  companions,  as  he  stands  picketed 
and  spanned  outside  your  tent. 

The  Arab  method  of  doing  this  is  most  effective, 
for  the  two  front  legs  and  one  of  the  hind  legs 
are  fastened  together  on  the  principle  of  a  crow's- 
foot  mooring  for  vessels,  for  at  certain  seasons  the 
animals  become  almost  unmanageable.  In  the  hands 
of  the  Arabs  he  is  well  under  control,  for  the  cruel 
bit  with  a  plate  of  iron  and  the  huge  shoe  stirrups 
enable  them  to  keep  him  in  order  by  brute  force. 


122    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

I  have  frequently  seen  a  rider  deposited  on  the 
sand  whilst  the  stallions  jfight.  It  can  easily  be 
understood  that  for  this  reason  they  are  the  most 
undesirable  horses  imaginable  for  picket  work,  as  they 
are  rarely  actually  docile,  as  a  gelding  is. 

And  yet  after  my  experience  of  the  Arabs,  and 
some  knowledge  of  their  thoughts  about  their  horses 
and  their  feelings  towards  them,  I  can  understand 
why  they  object  to  having  them  interfered  with 
in  any  way,  and  I  very  soon  began  to  appreciate 
and  sympathise  with  the  instincts  of  the  Mussulmans 
in  this  matter.  And  this  too  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
I  had  plenty  of  trouble  with  my  own  particular 
spirited  steed. 

They  never  intentionally  kick  or  harm  a  human 
being.  I  have  heard  of  rare  instances  where  people 
have  been  badly  hurt,  but  that  has  most  likely 
occurred  whilst  trying  to  stop  a  fight. 

When  the  "  assembly  "  is  sounded  the  call  is  taken 
up  by  the  Arab  war  drums,  which  sound  the  tocsin 
from  camp  to  camp.  As  the  native  braves  draw  in 
the  wildest  excitement  ensues.  When  the  different 
cavalry  regiments  get  together  the  excitement  is 
intense,  and  the  shouting  of  the  men,  the  waving  of 
their  banners,  and  the  beating  of  the  drums,  seem 
to  drive  the  horses  frantic  with  excitement.  The 
animals  of  the  various  tribes  go  for  each  other  as  if 
they  were  demons  of  vengeance  with  long-forgotten 
feuds.  The  loose  horses  amongst  the  mob  clear  a  way 
with   their   hoofs,  and  then,  when  they  reach  some 


A  FEW  REMINISCENCES  123 

companion  which  seems  to  be  particularly  obnoxious,  a 
battle-royal  takes  place,  and  it  is  only  with  a  certain 
amount  of  risk  that  they  are  separated. 

Notwithstanding  the  total  lack  of  organisation 
from  a  European  standpoint,  these  Arabs  "  get  there  " 
all  the  same.  Their  requirements  are  so  small ; 
each  man,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  takes  care  of  himself 
and  his  horse.  The  latter  he  often  neglects,  possibly 
through  carelessness,  possibly  through  force  of  cir- 
cumstances, but  there  is  a  bond  of  sympathy  between 
the  Arab  and  his  steed,  and  both  seem  equally  toler- 
ant of  hard  times  and  short  commons. 

This  discipline  of  hardship  makes  them  the  finest 
mounted  infantry  in  the  world.  Therefore  the  want 
of  all  the  cumbersome  transport  which  is  necessary  to 
modern  European  armies  is  not  felt  by  the  Arabs. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

A   VISIT   FROM  ALl   PASHA 

One  day  we  had  a  visit  from  Ali  Pasha,  son  of  the 
late  Abdul  Kadir,  who  was  the  renowned  sheik  who 
fought  the  French  for  thirty  years.  Ali's  mission  was 
a  noble  one,  to  stir  up  enthusiasm  and  inspire  the 
forces  with  the  confidence  that  victory  would  come  to 
them  in  the  end.  The  roar  of  many  voices,  the  rumble 
of  drums,  and  the  cracking  of  rifles  heralded  Ali's 
approach  long  before  he  came  in  sight. 

Then  the  cavalry  flew  in  an  irregular  body 
straight  at  the  head  of  the  column,  either  reining  up 
their  horses  as  they  reached  them,  or  riding  right 
through  the  lines,  embracing,  kissing,  and  showing  by 
every  means  their  delight  at  the  coming  of  their  hero. 
Next  Ali  and  his  sheiks  charged  down  upon  us,  and 
we  received  him  with  open  arms,  salaams,  and  prayers 
upon  all  sides  as  they  escorted  him  to  the  tent  that 
had  been  prepared  for  his  reception. 

After  a  short  rest  and  some  light  refreshment  we 
joined  forces,  and  started  out  in  a  body  to  a  beautifully 
level  spot  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  tents.  Horsemen 
circled  us  like  birds,  finally  dropping  into  their  ap- 
pointed places.  Women,  beggars,  musicians,  jugglers, 
— all  the  Bohemian  element  in  the  place — assisted  to 
give  us  a  good  send-off". 

124 


A   VISIT   FROM   ALI   PASHA         125 

When  we  reached  the  appointed  place,  we  formed 
up  in  one  big  irregular  square  for  inspection  by 
Muheddin. 

The  Turkish  officers  escorted  Ali  and  his  son,  who 
had  been  named  Abdul  Kadir,  after  his  distinguished 
grandfather.  At  intervals  Ali  would  make  a  short 
impassioned  speech  as  he  halted  again  and  again 
during  his  progress  down  the  lines. 

The  inspection  over,  the  tournament  began.  The 
space  inside  the  square  was  about  five  or  six  acres  in 
area.  At  one  end  the  horsemen  took  their  station. 
A  succession  of  sand  billows  gave  ideal  vantage- 
ground  to  the  crowds  of  sightseers,  our  old  Bohemian 
friends  amongst  them. 

There  was  no  spear -breaking,  but  some  of  the 
finest  riding  I  ever  saw.  Whole  groups  of  horsemen 
charged  wildly  at  each  other,  time  after  time,  only 
swerving  aside  just  before  the  very  moment  of  con- 
tact, their  hrams  flying  wildly  behind  them,  ming- 
ling with  the  tails  of  their  horses. 

Then  they  had  mock  combats  with  sword  and  spear. 
Riding  in  pairs  was  quite  a  pretty  turn ;  the  riders 
started  arm  in  arm,  their  rifles  held  to  their  shoulders 
all  the  time,  their  horses  being  guided  by  the  pressure 
of  the  knee.  After  riding  and  swirling  at  a  terrific 
pace,  the  course  was  finished  by  the  simultaneous  dis- 
charge of  their  rifles. 

Some  of  the  most  daring  and  accomplished  of 
these  expert  riders,  whilst  riding  at  a  great  pace, 
reached  down  from  their   saddles  and  picked  up  a 


126    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

handful  of  sand  from  the  ground,  and  threw  it  into 
the  air  above  their  heads  as  they  flew  past. 

One  horseman  jumped  off  his  horse,  ran  under 
the  animal's  belly  in  its  stride,  and  mounted  again 
without  slackening  the  quick  pace.  Ali  and  his  son 
are  both  expert  riders,  and  gave  us  many  examples 
of  skill  and  daring.  It  made  a  wonderfully  fine 
picture,  this  circus  desert-show  in  the  blazing  sun- 
shine, the  riders  in  their  white  hrams,  the  caparisoned 
chargers  in  red,  blue,  yellow  and  green,  with  silver- 
mounted  harness,  and  a  background  of  grim  drab- 
coloured  warriors  who  were  chanting  their  wild  war- 
hymns  all  the  time.  It  was  a  glow  of  colour,  a 
power  of  motion. 

The  mharrie,  or  running  camels,  were  then  put 
through  their  paces.  Their  stride  is  tremendous,  and 
their  speed  exceeds  that  of  the  swiftest  horse. 

One  of  the  riders  was  thrown,  and  he  must  have 
pitched  at  least  fifty  feet  and  rolled  over  and  over. 
But  he  was  up  again  in  a  second,  and  on  his  beast 
in  another  two  or  three,  racing  and  capering  as  if 
nothing  unusual  had  happened.  The  day  ended 
with  a  feast,  at  which  all  the  principal  sheiks  were 
present. 

Carpets  were  laid  down  in  a  long  row,  and  the 
Turkish  soldiers  who  were  told  off  to  act  in  the 
capacity  of  waiters  and  cooks  quickly  set  the  meat 
before  us.  The  chief  dish  was  lamb  roasted  whole,  and 
we  must  have  consumed  quite  a  small  flock  of  them. 

We   sat  ourselves  down  in   small  messes   round 


A  VISIT   FROM   ALI   PASHA         127 

the  dishes,  eating  with  Nature's  forks.  I  squatted 
next  to  Sheik  Barouni,  helping  him  to  carve,  perhaps 
I  should  say  dismember,  the  particular  animal  that 
had  been  placed  before  us.  Their  manner  of  eating 
has  often  been  criticised,  but  when  you  consider 
that  the  Mussulman  is  always  most  particular  in 
washing  both  before  and  after  meat,  their  habits  are 
not  so  very  objectionable. 

Our  beverage  was  of  course  water.  A  Turkish 
sweet  known  as  "Hulwah"  came  next,  and  coffee  as 
usual  concluded  the  repast. 

During  the  night  we  had  rather  an  unusual 
experience.  About  midnight  we  were  disturbed  by 
the  tent  falling  on  the  top  of  us,  and  we  awoke  in 
a  cloud  of  sand  and  a  roar  of  wind.  The  servants 
spent  an  hour  endeavouring  to  secure  the  tent  against 
the  hurricane,  but  all  their  efforts  were  unavailing. 

Fortunately  the  sand  piled  over  our  baggage  and 
gear,  most  effectively  hiding  and  keeping  them  secure. 
To  make  matters  worse,  three  stallions  that  had 
broken  loose  chose  this  particular  spot  for  their 
fighting-ground,  so  that  with  their  screaming  and 
kicking  and  flying  heels,  the  terrible  wind,  and  the 
driving  sand,  there  was  no  small  stir  among  us. 
The  brutes  were  captured  by  the  horse-guard,  who 
managed  to  get  hold  of  them,  heaven  knows  how,  in 
all  that  turmoil  and  blackness.  But  the  Turkish 
soldier  is  an  expert  at  the  task,  horse-catching 
being  one  of  his  daily  duties.  All  the  horse-gear 
seemed  to  be  more  or  less  rotten,  and  horses  appeared 


128    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

to  break  loose  at  will,  although  the  device  for  catching 
these  errant  steeds  is  simplicity  itself. 

There  is  the  first  burst  and  off  goes  the  fugitive, 
until  he  is  lost  sight  of  in  the  undulations  of  the  open 
desert.  Two  loutish-looking  soldiers  follow  him  slowly, 
casually  carrying  a  long  rope.  Then,  each  of  them 
holding  an  end,  they  come  within  sight  of  the  deserter. 

The  animal  immediately  enters  into  the  fun,  and 
fully  appreciates  his  part  of  the  performance.  He 
takes  a  positive  dehght  in  playing  with  them,  for  he 
waits  until  they  are  almost  on  him  and  then  off  he 
goes,  tossing  his  lovely  head  and  elevating  up  his 
flowing  tail  as  if  in  derision. 

But  the  wily  Tommy  bides  his  time,  circling  him 
and  always  coming  nearer.  With  the  end  of  the  rope 
dragging,  each  man  passes  on  either  side.  Then 
the  rope  is  pulled  taut  in  front  of  him,  the  centre 
being  level  with  his  chest;  the  pursuers  run  round 
and  round,  tying  him  up,  and  one  of  them  takes  him 
by  the  forelock  and  leads  him  back. 

In  the  darkest  night,  when  you  cannot  see  any- 
thing, they  employ  this  antiquated  method  quite 
successfully,  guided  by  sound  alone.  There  was  one 
great  and  ever-present  and  abiding  trouble  from  which 
we  were  never  free,  and  that  was  the  prevalence  of 
insect  life,  an  unavoidable  annoyance  in  spite  of  the 
most  careful  efforts  at  cleanliness. 

There  was  also  the  scorpion,  of  which  there  are 
two  kinds,  the  black  and  the  yellow,  and  it  was 
my  fate  to  experience  the  unwelcome  attentions  of 


A   VISIT   FROM   ALI   PASHA         129 

both  specimens.  One  night  I  was  bitten  by  some- 
thing that  I  knew  to  possess  a  better  grip  than  the 
inevitable  flea,  and  I  guessed  what  it  was  by  the 
burning  sting.  I  struck  a  Ught  and  discovered  a 
couple  of  young  scorpions  in  bed  with  me.  They 
had  slept  together  most  amicably  until  perhaps  I 
had  become  too  restless,  and  then  they  had  indicated 
their  disapproval  of  my  presence  by  stinging  me  on 
the  knee.  Dr.  Beshir  Bey  came  like  an  angel  of 
mercy,  and  with  the  careful  use  of  a  lancet  and  some 
strong  ammonia,  which  he  rubbed  vigorously  into  the 
incision  that  he  made,  the  pain  soon  became  easier. 
He  put  a  bandage  on,  and  the  next  day,  with  the 
exception  of  a  pain  in  my  groin,  I  was  nearly  well 
and  able  to  get  about.  These  scorpions  were  a  pair 
of  the  yellow  variety. 

The  next  time  I  was  lucky  not  to  get  stung  by 
a  big  black  one  that  had  crawled  up  the  folds  of  my 
overcoat  and  ensconced  himself  under  the  collar  close 
to  my  neck.  Salim  noticed  and  caught  him  with 
two  sticks  which  he  used  like  a  pair  of  tongs. 
Achmet,  another  servant,  looked  at  the  dead  animal 
with  great  contempt  and  said,  "  I  don't  care  for 
scorpions  ;  I  crush  them  in  my  hand — so  " — imitating 
the  motion,  but  I  found  that  he  had  never  tried 
the  game  on  one  of  them,  and  it  was  simply  an  idle 
boast.  I  told  a  friend  of  mine  named  Nouri  Bey  of 
the  incident,  and  he  said,  "  Well,  we  never  have  any 
trouble  with  scorpions  because  we  keep  chickens,  which 

search  for  them  and  eat  them."    This  is  worth  knowing. 

I 


CHAPTER   XIV 

A  VISIT  TO  ZANZUR 

My  next  visit  was  to  Zanzur,  for  I  had  a  fancy  for 
sea-bathing  and  fishing.  Ali  Pasha  and  his  entourage 
were  staying  there  with  my  friend  Tahar,  the  com- 
mandant. Zanzur  was  distant  about  two  hours, 
and  it  was  rather  a  favourite  ride  of  mine.  There 
is  a  great  variety  of  desert,  and  several  tiny  oases 
which  help  to  break  the  monotony  of  the  desert 
rides.  Then,  too,  there  is  a  bracing  feeling  in  the 
air  and  the  ozone  of  the  sea.  The  troops  were 
camped  amongst  the  gardens  of  the  west  end,  and  a 
shady  road  takes  you  to  the  bazaar. 

Tahar  welcomed  me  heartily.  He  was  full  of  en- 
thusiasm about  some  new  trenches  that  he  was  con- 
structing a  couple  of  miles  nearer  to  the  fort.  The 
Italians  did  not  know  anything  of  them,  I  was  told, 
because  all  the  work  had  been  done  at  night-time.  It 
was  discovered  later  that  the  Italians  did  know,  and 
what  is  more,  they  had  photo-charts  of  all  the  posi- 
tions taken  by  the  aerial  corps;  but  this  is  by  the  way. 

We  went  out  to  see  the  trenches  and  were  fired  at, 
which  was  always  part  of  the  show.  It  gives  a  little 
sensation  of  excitement,  and  there  is  rarely  any  par- 
ticular danger.  It  was  evident  that  in  the  Italian 
imagination  the  desert  swarmed  with  Arabs,  and  if  a 


A   VISIT   TO   ZANZUR  131 

solitary  Arab  horseman  showed  against  the  skyline  it 
was  enough  to  start  all  the  cannon  in  Tripoli,  rein- 
forced by  the  ships'  guns  banging  away  thousands  of 
pounds  into  the  sand  of  the  desert.  I  was  often  under 
the  impression  that  there  must  be  some  very  heavy 
fighting,  here  or  there,  but  I  found  by  experience  that 
what  I  have  stated  was  generally  the  explanation  of 
a  senseless  bombardment. 

I  spent  a  very  pleasant  time  at  the  Kazan  and 
often  listened  to  Ali  Pasha  exhorting  the  Arabs, 
preaching  to  them  in  the  old  square.  It  was  in- 
teresting to  watch  the  earnest  faces  of  the  hearers 
and  to  see  the  impulsive  clutch  as  the  hand  tightened 
on  the  sword  or  rifle.  That  was  my  last  visit  to 
Zanzur,  and  I  recall  it  with  pleasure :  the  sensuous 
sunshine,  backed  by  luxuriant  semi-tropical  vegeta- 
tion, but  alas  !  poverty  stalks  with  bounty.  Nature  is 
prodigal  in  response  to  the  efforts  of  the  husbandman, 
but  the  systematic  labour  required  to  develop  the  land 
is  not  in  the  nature  of  these  children  of  the  Prophet. 
They  humbly  toil,  but  the  primitive  implements — the 
ploughs — are  of  wood,  pulled  by  camels.  The  prongs 
scarcely  scratch  the  ground,  the  instrument  being  too 
light  in  construction.  But  the  camels  fill  the  air  with 
their  bitter  lamentations  over  this  comparatively 
light  task.  This  is  because  the  farmer  is  always  in  a 
hurry  and  drives  him  out  of  his  dignified  stride.  Man 
and  beast  express  equally  the  utter  weariness  of  labour. 
The  land  is  extremely  fertile,  and  under  proper  cultiva- 
tion would  most  undoubtedly  give  splendid  results. 


132     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

It  is  the  apathy,  if  not  the  indolence,  of  these  men 
that  makes  one  fearful  as  to  their  ability  eventually 
to  get  the  upper  hand  of  their  enemies.  Their 
qualities  are  excellent ;  their  faith  in  God  and  their 
devotion  to  their  cause  are  beautiful  to  witness,  but 
I  would  sooner  see  amongst  them  more  of  the  prin- 
ciple which,  admitting  the  beauty  of  faith  in  God,  at 
the  same  time  insists  upon  the  desirability  of  keeping 
the  powder  dry  and  the  sword  sharpened  ! 

With  the  approach  of  spring  the  hot  winds  blew 
from  the  south  with  the  greatest  fury,  overwhelming 
the  camp  with  clouds  of  dust.  Scarcely  a  day  passed 
without  a  number  of  tents  being  blown  down  and 
other  damage  and  inconvenience  being  caused.  The 
whole  world  of  insect  pests  concentrated  and  sought 
cover  in  the  only  available  shelters,  causing  strife 
between  them  and  human  beings. 

These  winds,  although  scourges  in  themselves, 
were  not  altogether  an  unmixed  evil,  for  they  kept 
the  Italians  within  their  trenches  and  effectually 
stopped  all  aerial  flights.  I  therefore  resolved  to  take 
advantage  of  these  circumstances  and  to  visit  Khoms. 
This  town  lies  to  the  east,  and  marks  the  limit  of 
Neshet's  jurisdiction.  The  ancient  name  of  Khoms 
was  Lybda,  where  are  still  to  be  seen  some  most 
perfect  Roman  ruins.  At  that  time  unfortunately 
the  Italians  had  occupied  the  harbour,  but  as  that 
portion  of  the  old  city  lay  some  kilometres  to  the 
eastward,  I  was  in  hope  of  being  able  to  inspect 
them.     So,  packing  up  the  tent,  Major  Paget  and  I 


A  VISIT   TO   ZANZUR  133 

started  on  our  long  journey.  The  horses  were  fresh 
and  the  camels  were  well  and  fat,  and  we  looked  for- 
ward to  a  pleasant  trip.  The  first  day  we  bivouacked 
at  Azizia,  and  pitched  our  camp  there  to  enable  us  to 
revisit  our  Turkish  friends.  We  intended  to  start  at 
sundown,  as  we  preferred  to  ride  through  the  cool  of 
the  night,  it  being  better  both  for  men  and  horses  to 
travel  then. 

We  struck  the  mountain  pass  easily  the  next 
morning,  resting  through  the  heat  of  the  day  by 
the  clear  spring,  shaded  by  a  thick  clump  of  palm- 
trees,  commencing  the  ascent  of  the  pass  at  4  p.m. 
We  reached  Gherien  at  sunset,  where  we  had  the 
luxury  of  a  bath,  an  excellent  dinner,  and  some  cold 
beer — a  special  brew — at  the  German  Red  Cross 
hospital,  where  they  treated  us  with  the  greatest 
hospitality  and  begged  us  to  prolong  our  stay. 

That  night  we  slept  in  the  hospital,  but  on  the 
following  day  we  put  up  our  tent  beneath  the  shade 
of  some  ancient  olive-trees  that  formed,  so  to  speak, 
the  garden  of  the  hospital.  The  site  of  this  camp 
was  most  picturesque,  it  being  surrounded  with  olive- 
groves  ;  several  of  the  trees  of  a  size  and  girth  that 
might  well  compare  with  those  upon  the  Mount 
of  Olives.  The  bracing  breezes  from  the  mountain 
uplands  brought  fresh  life  and  vigour  to  the  sick 
and  wounded. 

Words  fail  to  express  my  admiration  for  the 
men  who  worked  and  served  under  Dr.  Goebel.  Un- 
fortunately the  time  of  the  Bed  Cross  there  was  draw- 


134     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

ing  towards  a  close.  It  was  most  pathetic  to  notice 
the  regret  of  the  Arabs  and  the  Turks.  These  kind- 
hearted  people  showed  their  gratitude  to  the  doctors 
and  nurses  who  composed  it  by  every  means  in 
their  power. 

The  camp  was  laid  out  with  German  thorough- 
ness. There  were  six  large  marquees,  each  of  which 
accommodated  from  thirty  to  forty  patients.  Cooking 
and  scavenging  were  most  scrupulously  attended  to, 
and  the  water,  the  cause  of  so  much  sickness  in 
that  country,  was  always  filtered  and  boiled.  At 
a  short  distance  from  the  camp  a  squad  of  washer- 
women were  employed  all  day  in  keeping  the  linen 
scrupulously  clean. 

The  officers'  quarters  occupied  about  a  third 
of  the  compound.  The  mess-room  was  in  the  open 
air,  two  long  tables  being  fixed  to  the  ground  and 
shaded  all  day  by  the  foliage  of  a  big  olive-tree. 
The  staff  consisted  of  two  German  and  two  Turkish 
doctors.  The  routine  was  carried  out  with  the 
greatest  regularity,  and  at  five  o'clock  every  day 
one  or  other  of  the  doctors  spent  two  hours  in 
attending  to  the  medical  needs  of  the  whole  district, 
which  was  no  easy  task.  I  have  noticed  as  many  as 
fifty  or  sixty  patients  crowding  into  the  room  for 
advice  and  treatment. 

Originally  built  by  the  Turks  for  a  schoolhouse, 
the  hospital  contained  a  room  that  had  been  fitted 
up  for  operations.  Another  had  been  arranged  for 
the  Rontgeu  rays  with  as  much  care  and  attention 


A   VISIT   TO   ZANZUR  135 

to  detail  as  any  of  the  great  European  institutions. 
Whilst  we  were  there  one  of  the  German  nurses — 
the  third  victim  of  duty  and  Christianity — died,  and 
that  evening,  as  the  sun  sank,  his  remains  were 
lowered  into  a  vault.  The  ceremony  was  simple 
and  impressive.  Carried  to  his  last  resting-place  by 
his  German  colleagues,  followed  by  the  grateful  Turks 
and  Arabs,  the  funeral  cortege  wound  its  short  way 
to  a  shady  corner  in  a  peaceful  clump  of  olives. 
After  the  ceremony,  during  which  Christians  and 
Mahomedans  stood  there  hand  in  hand — East  and 
West  thus  being  united  in  the  sacred  bonds  of 
brotherhood — one  could  not  help  condemning  the 
craft  and  statecraft  which  brought  so  much  misery 
upon  the  country.  No  one  could  have  listened  to 
the  fervent  address  of  the  Bey  without  having  respon- 
sive feelings  with  regard  to  the  duties  of  man  to 
man,  of  nation  to  nation.  There  is  but  one  God — 
the  Father  of  All. 

Paget  and  I  occasionally  strolled  about  the  bazaar 
— our  walks  extending  to  the  Kazan  to  watch  the 
flitting  of  the  shadows  over  the  plain.  We  also 
visited  the  Italian  prisoners.  One  of  them  whose 
name  was  Gargano,  and  who  was  assisting  at  the 
German  hospital — thus  enjoying  a  brief  spell  of  com- 
parative liberty — expressed  himself  as  being  satisfied 
with  the  treatment  he  had  received. 

When  the  Red  Cross  left,  Gargano  was  given 
the  choice  of  remaining  and  of  working  with  the 
Turks,  but  he  refused  to  do  this,  his  reason  being 


136     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

that    he    objected    to    assisting    the    enemy   of   his 
country. 

No  objection  was  offered  to  our  giving  the  prisoners 
cigarettes  or  tobacco.  Since  my  last  visit  the  num- 
ber of  prisoners  had  been  increased  by  the  taking 
of  some  of  the  Askaris — or  Masowah — from  the  black 
battalions  which  the  Italians  had  imported  fi'om 
Masowah,  and  upon  whom  fell  the  brunt  of  the 
fighting. 

For  some  strange  reason  I  cannot  explain,  I  had 
an  indefinable  sensation  that  something  had  changed 
in  the  appearance  of  the  camp,  but  I  thought  nothing 
more  of  it.  That  evening,  however,  a  report  spread 
through  the  hospital  camp  that  three  prisoners  had 
escaped.  Instinctively  I  knew  who  they  were,  and 
I  afterwards  found  that  they  were  the  blacks.  Their 
time  of  liberty  proved  short,  and  the  only  use  they 
made  of  it  was  to  walk  over  the  stony  mountains 
for  seven  or  eight  hours  without  either  food  or  water, 
when  the  torment  of  thirst  drove  them  to  the  only 
spring,  which  they  found  at  the  foot  of  the  pass. 
Here,  however,  they  tumbled  right  into  the  arms 
of  the  zeptirs  who  had  been  sent  after  them.  One 
of  the  zeptirs  afterwards  said,  "  No  one  ever  gets 
away  here.  We  only  have  to  ride  and  watch  the 
waters.  Thou  knowest,  O  Hadji,  every  one  must 
drink."  A  number  of  Arabs  waited  all  day  to  see  the 
return  of  the  recaptured  blacks.  They  were  marched 
in  by  the  zeptirs  at  sunset,  nearly  naked,  weary, 
hungry  and  thirsty,  with  wild-looking  eyes.     What 


A   VISIT   TO   ZANZUR  137 

happened   to   them  eventually  I   did  not  hear,  but 
I  think  their  punishment  was  not  severe. 

Our  friends  the  Germans  left  shortly  afterwards, 
and  the  whole  district  turned  out  to  give  them  a 
good  send-off,  while  women  wailed  as  the  little  com- 
pany disappeared  at  a  turn  of  the  winding  road. 
With  magnificent  generosity  they  presented  the 
whole  outfit — tent,  baggage,  medicine,  &c. — to  the 
Turkish  doctors.  This  splendid  gift  was  estimated 
at  a  monetary  value  of  ten  thousand  pounds.  But 
beyond  mere  material  value,  this  present  was  a  record 
of  brotherly  love  which  was  highly  valued. 

After  leaving  the  hospital  camp  we  journeyed 
along  the  top  of  the  Jebel  mountain,  sleeping  one 
night  on  the  roof  of  a  house,  and  partaking  of  the 
hospitality  of  the  village  sheik  who  lived  under- 
ground. The  second  day  we  reached  Tarhuna,  an 
ordinary  Arab  town.  A  long  day's  march  brought 
us  to  Meslata,  a  place  of  some  importance,  situated 
amongst  beautiful  olive-groves.  The  most  noteworthy 
object  was  an  ancient  fort,  standing  on  the  summit 
of  a  remarkable  isolated  mountain  which  dominated 
the  town  and  the  surrounding  country. 

The  massive  walls,  "four  square  to  the  wind," 
enclose  an  area  of  a  dozen  acres  or  more.  The 
ancient  gateway  is  broken  down ;  the  wild  olive 
and  the  fig  flourish  on  its  decay.  Inside,  the  donjon 
or  keep  lies  in  ruins,  piled  up  over  a  labyrinth  of 
underground  passages,  the  mystery  of  which  will  in 
all  probability  always  remain  in  obscurity. 


138     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

We  mounted  the  old  walls,  where  the  proverbial 
coach-and-four  might  have  run  easily.  At  either 
corner,  bastions,  strong  and  solid  enough  to  mount 
a  12 -inch  gun,  bore  testimony  to  the  thoroughness 
of  the  work.  We  stayed  there  for  a  long  time 
speculating  and  wondering  in  regard  to  the  past 
history  of  the  fort.  Whoever  built  it  possessed  the 
mind  of  an  engineer  of  no  mean  attainments.  The 
crests  of  several  distant  hills  showed  simpler  works. 

The  zeptir  who  accompanied  us  broke  into  our 
musings  to  point  out  Merkab  Mountain  dominating 
Khoms.  Through  our  glasses  we  could  distinguish 
the  new  fort  built  by  the  Italians. 

Hallal  Bey,  brother  of  the  redoubtable  Enver,  com- 
manded this  district.  His  headquarters  are  prettily 
situated  in  an  olive  garden.  A  fine  old  ruined 
temple  ornaments  the  hill  which  shelters  this  happy 
valley.  Our  old  friend  Nazmi  was  there  as  second 
in  command.  We  put  up  our  tent,  intending  to 
spend  a  few  days  in  visiting  the  neighbourhood. 

Lybda  is  some  fifteen  kilometres  away,  and  for  a 
time  it  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Italians,  who  had 
rushed  the  Mount  of  Merkab,  which  covers  the 
harbour  and  town  with  its  guns,  and  built  an  im- 
pregnable fort.  It  was  armed  with  four  big  guns  and 
some  field-pieces  and  plenty  of  quick-firers.  Our 
advanced  post  was  stationed  on  Mount  Hunnan, 
opposite  Merkab,  and  distant  seven  kilometres. 

There  are  two  or  three  ways  of  reaching  Hunnan, 
but    this    is    rather    a   dangerous   one.     One  face  of 


A   VISIT  TO   ZANZUR  139 

Merkab  overlooks  a  portion  of  the  road  running 
through  a  narrow  ravine.  A  five  minutes'  gallop 
clears  us,  and  we  jog  on  leisurely  through  the  bed 
of  a  mountain  torrent  which  is  now  dry.  Winding 
our  way  through  and  about  the  tortuous  twists  of 
the  channel,  we  ascend  a  stair-like  precipice  and 
suddenly  come  in  full  sight  of  the  town  and  harbour 
with  its  shipping  guarded  by  a  cruiser. 

We  scamper  over  the  uplands  in  full  view  of  the 
Italian  ship  for  half  a  mile,  but  no  shell  comes 
screaming  after  us.  This  was  a  matter  of  good  luck, 
for  sometimes  they  shoot  at  small  convoys.  We  next 
crossed  a  dangerous  ravine  with  breakneck  approaches, 
the  key  to  Hunnan,  turning  the  shoulder  of  the 
mountain. 

We  rode  into  the  camp  of  the  advance  post.  As 
the  day  was  young,  we  decided  to  start  after  lunch 
to  see  this  Italian  position.  A  series  of  goat- 
tracks  led  us  to  the  summit,  where  in  the  ruined 
chambers  of  a  venerable  temple  the  outposts  rested. 
Selecting  our  way  carefully  through  titanic  masses 
of  fallen  masonry  to  reach  the  extreme  verge  of 
Mount  Hunnan,  a  breastwork  of  boulder  protected 
the  picket,  who  watched  night  and  day.  A  superb 
vision  was  here  presented  to  our  eyes.  The  dreamy 
blue  haze  of  the  sea  enveloped  earth  and  sky,  half 
veiling  the  scene,  a  Turner  landscape  being  thus  pro- 
duced. Into  this  blue  mystery  ran  a  golden  tongue 
on  which  stand  fairy-like  buildings  of  creamy  white. 
The  golden  beach  curved  in  a  crescent,  half  enclosing 


I40    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

a  limpid  bay  reflecting  the  golden  sand  and  the 
cream-coloured  buildings.  The  blue  sheet  of  water 
was  broken  by  crape  bands,  created  by  the  soft 
zephyrs  as  they  kissed  the  polished  surface  of  the 
water. 

A  broad  alluvial  plain  stretches  to  the  belt  of 
palms  that  encircle  this  fairy  scene,  through  which  a 
dry  river-bed  meanders,  dividing  the  ancient  Lybda  in 
two  parts.  That  on  the  east  contains  the  celebrated 
Roman  Arch  and  portions  of  a  Coliseum,  with  other 
specimens  of  stately  architecture. 

Recumbent  statues,  columns,  and  plinths  block  the 
old  streets.  The  desert  has  preserved  for  the  searcher 
the  secrets  of  those  days.  Drift-sand,  to  the  depth 
of  fifty  feet  in  many  places,  conceals  and  preserves 
treasures  of  history.  Like  Moses  we  were  only  to  see 
the  Promised  Land.  As  we  looked  towards  the  town 
we  saw  the  busy  Italians  constructing  earthworks, 
forts,  trenches,  and  entanglements.  Forts  linked  by 
curtain-walls  ran  out  to  the  river's  brink.  We  were 
within  a  couple  of  thousand  yards  of  the  Italians,  and 
we  could  distinguish  small  parties  of  the  enemy  now 
and  again  through  our  glasses.  We  could  also  see 
some  officers  looking  at  us. 

These  forts,  strong  as  they  were,  had  been 
surprised  and  captured  by  the  Arabs,  who  destroyed 
two  small  guns  and  killed  the  defenders.  It  might 
have  been  a  more  successful  surprise  had  not  an  enthu- 
siastic sheik  pulled  down  the  Italian  flag.  Merkab 
Fort    thereupon    opened   fire   with    its   heavy   guns, 


A   VISIT  TO   ZANZUR  141 

rendering  the  position  untenable  and  making  it 
possible  for  the  Italians  to  recover  the  forts.  Much 
loot  was  secured  by  the  Arabs,  but  practically  no 
material  gain  resulted  from  this  heroic  effort  through 
lack  of  artillery. 

Pathetic  interest  was  excited  by  the  letters  from 
anxious  wives  and  sweethearts  found  on  the  Italian 
dead.  The  Italian  standard — a  fine  new  flag:  some 
six  feet  by  twelve — was  captured,  as  well  as  rifles, 
equipment,  clothes,  and  caps.  The  flag  was  after- 
wards sent  to  Azizia,  where  our  stay  was  shortened 
owing  to  the  heat  of  the  weather.  Every  hour  the 
sun  seemed  to  gain  in  power.  Travelling  by  day 
was  nearly  impossible,  and  the  prospect  of  a  summer 
in  the  hot  dusty  plains  was  not  inviting.  At  Azizia 
we  parted,  for  Paget  went  home. 


CHAPTER    XV 

HOMEWARD  BOUND 

As  I  pass  through  the  lonely  oases  on  my  way  to 
Ben  Garidane  I  note  all  the  old  familiar  sights,  such 
as  Sir  Conan  Doyle  depicts  in  his  vivid  description  of 
the  "  Pilgrim's  Way "  in  Sir  Nigel.  We  have  the 
free-lance  in  the  Arab  horseman  with  gaily  capari- 
soned steed  neighing  defiance  as  he  goes  swinging 
by ;  the  marabouts  (holy  men)  journeying  from  one 
tomb  to  another ;  merchants  from  Tunis  with  sugar, 
tea,  luxuries,  and  clothes  for  the  army ;  beggars  and 
travelling  artisans. 

The  hedge  stake  is  represented  by  the  seller  of 
palm-wine.  The  musicians,  with  pipes,  drums,  and 
cymbals,  beguile  the  tedium  of  the  slowly  moving 
caravan ;  petty  dealers  display  their  dusty  wares  by 
the  wayside  under  the  sheltering  palms.  It  is  the 
life  of  the  road,  as  old  as  the  hills.  We  drink  from 
Koman  draw-wells,  the  very  same  at  which,  centuries 
before,  the  thirsty  soldiers  of  Assyria  quenched  their 
thirst.  It  was  a  diorama  of  olden  times  and  olden 
customs. 

Finally  we  were  at  Zwarra  once  more.  The  re- 
doubtablei  Musa  Mahomet  had  left  for  Stamboul,  and 
Abdul  Kadir,  an  old  friend,  was  in  command.  There 
my  stay  was  brief,  but,   owing  to  the  Italian  occu- 


HOMEWARD   BOUND  143 

pation  of  Bukemesh,  I  was  unable  to  travel  by  my 
old  route.  I  therefore  made  for  the  frontier  by  way 
of  Zelten,  where  I  met  Mahmud  Bey,  who  com- 
manded there  in  place  of  another  Mahmud  Bey  who 
had  been  wounded  by  an  Italian  shell. 

A  battle  arrested  my  progress  for  two  days,  which 
I  spent  with  the  Arabs,  dressing  their  wounds,  &c., 
although  many  stoutly  refused  my  proffered  assist- 
ance, proudly  displaying  their  "  decorations  "  as  they 
called  them.  One  old  sheik  who  had  been  shot 
through  the  scalp  said,  "  To-day's  fight  was  a  picnic." 
The  Italians  came  out  without  their  artillery.  In 
this  they  showed  wisdom,  as  they  probably  would 
have  lost  the  guns.  My  kind  host  saw  me  to  the 
frontier. 

Tunis  once  more !  I  spent  a  few  days  in  this 
delightful  city,  the  "  Paris  of  Africa."  Taking  leave 
of  my  Arab  friends — some  of  the  kindest  and  warmest- 
hearted  men  I  have  met — three  days  later  found  me 
at  home  for  a  holiday. 

The  more  I  have  seen  of  Turkey  and  the  more 
I  know  about  her  and  her  people,  the  more  I  am 
attached  to  her  cause.  Europe  has  treated  this  fine, 
generous  race  with  a  callous  brutality  that  fills  my 
soul  with  indignation.  The  Turks  are  being  consis- 
tently and  grossly  misrepresented  and  maligned. 
Although  the  real  Mussulman  cannot  fail  to  be 
known  at  all  the  Chancelleries  of  Europe,  his  religion 
is  looked  down  upon  by  materialistic  peoples  who 
seem  to   be  incapable  of  doing   them  justice.     The 


144     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Mahomedan  has  a  simple,  touching  faith  such  as  we 
once  encouraged.  As  children  of  the  desert  they 
are  more  in  touch  with  the  dignity  and  solemnity 
of  nature  and  nearer  to  God. 

The  future  of  this  earth  lies  in  the  hands  of  the 
city-dweller,  who  tears  the  soul  from  his  body  in 
the  restless  speed  of  modern  life.     Is  it  worth  it  ? 

A  Christian  friend,  a  really  good  man  too,  gravely 
told  me  "  The  worst  of  the  Turk  is  that  he  is  not  a 
business  man — he  wastes  too  much  of  his  time  in 
prayers."  One  thing  he  is  not  ashamed  of,  and  that 
is  his  religion. 


BOOK   II 
THE    BALKANS 


K 


^"^^     ^^A7/^R. 


CHAPTER   I 

THE   WAR   CLOUD  BURSTS 

Turkey  was  driven  to  declare  war  against  the  allied 
nations — Bulgaria,  Greece,  Montenegro,  and  Servia — 
on  the  17th  of  October,  1912. 

Rumours  had  reached  England  that  fighting  was 
already  in  progress ;  that  the  Bulgarian  army  had 
crossed  the  frontier,  and  were  actually  at  Kourtkale, 
eight  miles  inside  the  Turkish  frontier ;  that  three 
Bulgarian  armies  were  concentrated  at  Mustafa 
Pasha,  to  the  north-west  of  Adrianople ;  and  that 
the  Turks  had  retired  on  the  Kirk  Kilisse  lines, 
leaving  a  strong  force  to  defend  Adrianople. 

The  Central  News  wished  me  to  proceed  to  Servia, 
but  my  inclinations  veered  to  the  Turkish  side. 
Thither  I  went  to  represent  my  old  paper,  The 
Illustrated  London  News,  as  their  special  artist.  It 
is  not  my  province  to  record  the  operations  of  the 
Allies,  but  to  describe  the  facts  and  circumstances  of 
the  campaign  from  the  Turkish  side  as  I  saw  them. 
I  only  mention  this,  as  rumours  affected  to  some 
extent  my  plans  for  getting  to  the  front  via  Sofia. 

At  a  big  tourist  agency  I  was  informed  that 
they  would  only  book  me  as  far  as  Vienna,  From 
that  point  I  had  to  look  after  myself,  for  several  of 
my  confreres   had   already  departed   via    Marseilles, 

M7 


148     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

taking  the  Messagerie  boat.  The  chief  objection  to 
this  charming  route  was,  of  course,  time,  and  events 
were  moving  swiftly. 

After  consulting  several  railway  maps  I  decided 
to  book  to  Constantinople,  via  Constanza,  the 
Roumanian  port  on  the  Black  Sea.  It  was  a  rather 
roundabout  route,  but  it  had  the  advantage  of  run- 
ning through  neutral  countries.  I  went  via  Berlin, 
and  it  was  my  good  fortune  there  to  meet  a  German 
war  correspondent.  We  agreed  to  chum  together  for 
the  journey,  which  proved  to  be  a  very  great  advan- 
tage to  me,  he  being  a  good  linguist  and  speaking 
several  languages,  including  Roumanian. 

It  was  necessary  to  change  at  the  frontier  of 
that  country,  and  to  cross  it  in  order  to  catch  the 
train  from  Bucharest  at  Itskania. 

Night  travelling  is  always  disagreeable ;  at  least 
it  is  to  me.  I  was  glad  of  the  chance  of  a  break  in 
the  journey,  for  it  enabled  me  to  stop  at  Itskania. 
I  found  that  the  hotels  there  were  fairly  good  and 
not  expensive. 

Roumania  is  for  the  most  part  flat — not  unlike 
the  Russian  steppes;  but  the  rich  soil  there  pro- 
duces millions  of  bushels  of  wheat  and  other  cereals, 
whilst  on  the  remaining  vast  tracts  countless  herds 
of  cattle  and  horses  grazed,  as  well  as  sheep. 

We  crossed  the  turbid  waters  of  the  Danube, 
over  one  of  the  longest  bridges  in  Europe,  of  which 
the  people  are  justly  proud.  Constanza  is  a  thriving 
city,  destined   to   become  famous  on  account  of  its 


THE    WAR  CLOUD   BURSTS  149 

grain  trade  and  the  recently  developed  Galician 
oil  fields.  It  is  noted  also  for  having  given  to  the 
world  that  sweet  poetess  and  writer,  Carmen  Sylva, 
the  Royal  lady  who  rules  over  Roumania's  social 
destinies. 

Beautiful  suburbs  are  branching  out  in  all  direc- 
tions, and  the  fine  natural  harbour,  much  improved 
by  artificial  methods,  is  crowded  with  shipping. 

We  availed  ourselves  here  of  the  hospitality  of 
the  Constanza  Hotel,  in  consequence  of  some  slight 
delay  in  regard  to  my  baggage,  and  a  telegraphic 
difficulty  experienced  by  my  compagnon  de  voyage. 

Apparently  the  war  was  not  creating  much  in- 
terest at  Constanza,  excepting  among  the  commercial 
community,  which  anticipated  future  profit  in  the 
sale  to  the  combatants  of  grain  and  cattle. 

In  the  centre  of  the  town  is  an  irregular  square 
where,  as  in  other  cities,  the  elite  promenade,  or 
sit  at  the  open-air  cafd.  Here  they  bask  in  the 
glorious  sunshine  and  admire  the  charming  views 
of  the  glistening  sea,  while  listening  to  the  strains 
of  a  really  good  military  band,  which  includes  in 
its  selections  Rag-time,  as  well  as  other  justly 
appreciated  American  "  coon  "  music. 

Starting  on  the  final  stage  of  our  journey  at 
11  P.M.  the  next  night,  we  steamed  through  the 
picturesque  Bosphorus  on  the  following  morning. 
In  the  Straits  we  had  full  opportunity  of  realising 
that  history  is  writ  large  in  mountain  and  in 
masonry.     Not  the  least  interesting  is  the  diversity 


I50    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

of  the  colour  of  the  shipping  and  its  variety  in  shape. 
In  spite  of  the  current  and  contrary  winds,  the 
Straits  can  show  a  greater  number  of  saiUng  vessels 
than  any  other  part  of  the  world.  Even  the  ancient 
galley  is  to  be  seen  darting  along  with  a  dozen 
men  toiling  at  the  sweeps. 

At  midday  we  tied  up  alongside  the  wharf  at 
Galata.  To  clear  your  baggage  through  the  Custom- 
house of  Galata  you  have  to  fight  your  way  through 
touts  and  all  conditions  of  men  to  one  small  window  at 
the  far  end  of  a  long  narrow  shed.  There  is  no  method 
— you  drift  with  the  eddying  current.  At  times  you 
are  pushed  by  the  throng  to  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
window ;  then  suddenly  you  are  surged  by  a  contrary 
eddy  and  carried  hopelessly  away  from  it.  There  is 
a  babel  of  many  tongues.  Turks,  Arabs,  Greeks, 
French  and  Germans  are  all  shouting  in  high-pitched 
voices.  We  got  through  at  last,  and  took  a  deep  breath 
as  we  emerged  into  the  open  thoroughfare.  We  were 
glad  after  the  exhausting  process  to  get  a  carriage  to 
drive  to  Hotel  Tokatlian  at  Pera. 

The  narrow  street  swarmed  with  people,  but  I 
was  recognised  at  once  by  old  Salim,  my  Tripoli  ser- 
vant and  friend,  and  without  any  questions  he  assumed 
his  old  position,  and  came  with  me  to  my  hotel,  much 
to  the  dissfust  of  a  tout  who  had  taken  me  under  his 
wing  on  board  the  boat,  and  probably  saw  that  his 
backsheesh  would  be  diminished.  I  found  Salim  in- 
valuable with  his  intimate  knowledge  of  Stamboul. 
By   the   way,  Salim  talks   in  a  dozen  tongues  and 


THE   WAR  CLOUD   BURSTS  151 

knows  everybody ;  in  fact  he  is  a  "  character "  and 
a  favourite,  and  he  is  treated  quite  as  an  equal, 
although,  like  most  characters,  he  has  his  defects. 

Mahomedans  are  naturally  very  condescending 
among  themselves.  "  We  are  all  equal,  save  one,  and 
that  is  the  Sultan,"  is  one  of  their  sayings.  There  is 
a  curious  freedom  of  intercourse  between  masters  and 
servants,  which  the  latter  rarely  or  never  presume 
upon.  They  know  their  places.  You  wish  to  see  the 
Sultan — Salim  manages  it.  You  would  like  to  speak 
to  Kiamil  Pasha — you  have  only  to  tell  Salim,  and  it 
is  arranged.  His  principle  is  to  keep  himself  well  in 
evidence  and  let  his  voice  be  heard,  and  this  is  quite 
permissible  amongst  the  faithful. 

I  once  asked  a  Kaimakhan  why  he  permitted  a 
prisoner  to  cry  out  his  grievances  before  him.  He 
replied  :  "  If  he  did  not,  how  could  he  be  heard  ? " 

On  one  occasion  I  wanted  to  ask  some  small  favour 
from  the  War  Minister.  Salim  walked  me  straight  into 
his  presence  and  said,  "  Dere !  the  Pasha ;  speak  to 
him,  you  big  man."  In  no  country  on  earth  is  access 
to  great  men  in  high  places  so  easy  as  in  Turkey. 
But  it  is  the  character  of  the  race.  Their  kind, 
benign,  fatherly  feelings  make  them  hesitate  to  hurt 
the  susceptibilities  of  anyone. 

Turkey,  like  Japan,  cuts  the  negative  out  of  her 
vocabulary.  The  War  Office  and  Sublime  Porte — 
official  Turkey — work  in  Stamboul. 

Officers  fill  the  cafes,  drinking  their  coffee  while 
settling  the  fate  of  Moslem.     One  of  their  favourite 


152     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

haunts  is  Hotel  Meseret.  It  faces  you  as  you  walk 
up  to  the  Sublime  Porte  from  the  ferry.  I  took  a 
room  there,  intending  to  transfer  myself  and  my  bag- 
gage to  Stamboul,  but  I  am  not  acquainted  with  the 
Turkish  language,  which  naturally  made  it  impossible 
to  locate  myself  there,  although  I  should  have  much 
preferred  to  have  stayed,  as  I  greatly  appreciate 
Turkish  manners  and  customs. 

Very  little  news  was  allowed  to  leak  through 
with  reference  to  the  military  situation,  and  that  little 
was  unsatisfactory. 

M.  Tokatlian,  a  Greek,  owns  the  hotel,  and  I 
found  myself  at  home  at  once.  Everyone  was  most 
obliging ;  the  terms  were  most  reasonable ;  and  the 
chef  was  acknowledged  to  be  the  best  in  the  city. 
I  wish  to  lay  particular  stress  on  the  fact  that  the 
hotel  is  Greek,  and  that  the  attendants  are  nearly  all 
of  the  same  nationality.  While  I  was  there  all  sorts 
of  rumours  of  atrocities  committed  by  Mahomedans 
against  Christians  were  circulated.  The  Tokatlian 
pursued  the  even  tenor  of  its  way,  serving  Mussul- 
man, Christian,  and  Jew  with  equal  impartiality. 
I  saw  nothing  of  the  objectionable  demonstrations 
which  were  freely  reported  in  European  journals — 
a  fact  which  speaks  volumes  for  the  tolerance  of 
the  Turk. 

My  first  visit  was,  of  course,  to  the  War  Office,  to 
obtain  the  required  permission  to  proceed  to  the  front. 
Some  little  formalities  were  necessary,  including  a 
letter    from    the    Ambassador.     In    the   case   of  an 


THE   WAR  CLOUD   BURSTS         153 

Englishman  this  letter  had  to  come  from  the  Home 
Secretary,  through  the  Embassy,  testifying  to  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  trustworthy  and  a  bond  Jide  corre- 
spondent. This  was  absolutely  necessary,  on  account 
of  the  singular  position  which  Turkey  occupies  in 
Europe.  Unless  the  integrity  of  the  war  corre- 
spondents was  guaranteed  by  their  Governments, 
they  might — I  don't  say  they  would — act  as  spies. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  Turkey  occupied 
quite  an  isolated  position  among  the  European  Powers, 
who  had  displayed  an  unmistakable  desire  to  take 
advantao-e  of  the  troubles  and  difficulties  which  were 
then  overwhelming  the  Porte,  and  secure,  if  possible, 
either  financial,  diplomatic,  or  territorial  benefit  at  the 
expense  of  the  apparently  declining  Mussulman  power. 

Recent  experience  in  regard  to  the  tendency  of 
German  diplomacy,  as  well  as  that  of  other  Powers 
that  could  be  mentioned,  has  only  to  be  taken  into 
consideration  to  enable  the  reader  to  understand  to 
some  extent  the  reason  why  the  Turks  were  taking 
such  precautions  to  prevent  the  leakage  of  any 
information  that  would  be  useful  to  their  opponents 
in  the  field. 

It  was  necessary  also  for  the  Turkish  authorities 
to  take  special  precautions  to  prevent,  if  possible,  any 
news  being  sent  out  of  the  country  without  the 
consent  and  approval  of  the  Censor. 

It  should  be  made  clear  in  this  connection,  that 
the  postal  arrangements  in  Turkey  are  unlike  those 
of  any  other  country.     In  addition  to  the  General 


154     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Post  Office,  there  are  other  post  offices  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  other  nationahties  over  which  the 
Turkish  authorities  have  no  control. 

With  so  many  open  doors  at  the  disposal  of  un- 
scrupulous people,  it  was  perfectly  natural  that  the 
War  Office  should  insist  upon  correspondents  being 
furnished  with  undoubted  credentials  and  proofs  of 
the  genuine  character  of  their  duties  and  responsi- 
bilities. 

This  explanation  will  throw  some  light  upon  the 
ways  in  which  certain  unauthorised  and  unreliable 
reports  were  published  in  various  countries  for  the 
obvious  purpose  of  creating  prejudice  against  the 
Turks,  and  also  of  influencing  the  people  and  the 
Governments  in  favour  of  the  Allies. 

It  will  not  be  altogether  surprising,  therefore,  that 
Turkey,  in  such  circumstances,  should,  like  some  other 
countries  that  could  be  mentioned,  be  entangled  in 
red  tape,  or  that  attempts  should  have  been  made  to 
render  the  conditions  more  stringent  with  the  object, 
if  possible,  of  effectually  preventing  the  leakage  of 
important  information  with  reference  either  to  the 
movements  of  troops  or  plans  relating  to  the  military 
position,  fortifications,  and  organisation  generally. 


CHAPTER   II 

CORRESPONDENTS   AND   THE   TURKISH   WAR  OFFICE 

My  visit  to  the  War  Office  at  Stamboul  proved  to  be 
of  a  highly  satisfactory  character.  My  object  was  to 
obtain  my  licence  or  permit,  to  enable  me  to  proceed 
to  the  front. 

The  position  of  affairs  at  this  time  was  a  somewhat 
delicate  one.  From  what  I  and  other  war  corre- 
spondents could  ascertain,  Adrianople  was  then  being 
besieged,  but  no  definite  news  was  available  as  to 
whether  it  was  entirely  cut  off  from  communication 
with  the  base  at  Constantinople. 

It  was  known  that  a  Bulgarian  army  was  advanc- 
ing from  Mustafa  Pasha,  on  the  frontier,  with  the 
object  of  attacking  and  capturing  Kirk  Kilisse.  There 
was  a  railway  from  Kirk  Kilisse  to  Baba  Eski,  an 
important  strategic  railway  junction,  cutting  the  line 
which  runs  from  Constantinople  to  Adrianople. 

It  was  essential  to  the  Turks  that  they  should 
keep  this  line  open  for  communications,  and  for  the 
transport  of  troops,  material,  and  commissariat.  Un- 
fortunately for  the  Porte,  her  trunk  lines  are  only 
single  ones,  which  of  course  increased  her  difficulties 
considerably,  because  it  could  not  stand  the  heavy 
strain  required  at  a  time  when  the  Allies  were 
pushing  forward  so  quickly. 


156     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

The  defending  army  was  under  the  command  of 
Abdullah  Pasha,  whose  headquarters  were  then  at 
Lille  Burgas.  His  troops  were  composed  to  a  large 
extent  of  untrained  redifs,  or  conscripts,  who  had 
been  suddenly  called  upon  to  defend  the  frontiers  of 
their  country. 

I  can  testify  to  the  unfitness  of  these  troops  to 
take  the  field  against  a  well- trained  and  thoroughly 
organised  army  of  Bulgarians,  for  not  only  had  I 
the  opportunity  of  watching  their  arrival,  but  I  saw 
proofs  of  their  entire  lack  of  military  training,  in 
the  drills  to  which  they  had  to  be  subjected,  as  well 
as  their  actual  inability  in  the  majority  of  cases  to  use 
the  rifles  with  which  they  had  been  hastily  armed. 

It  was  not  by  any  means  an  infrequent  thing  to 
see  the  sergeants  explaining  to  these  raw  levies  the 
use  and  manipulation  of  their  weapons.  Physically 
these  men,  as  a  rule,  seemed  to  be  well  qualified  to 
take  the  field,  but  obviously  their  utter  lack  of  train- 
ing and  discipline  raised  grave  doubts  whether  they 
would  be  able  to  uphold  the  reputation  which  the 
Turkish  armies  had  hitherto  so  deservedly  gained. 

That  the  position  generally  with  which  the  Turks 
were  confronted  was  of  a  very  serious  character  will 
be  understood  when  it  is  pointed  out  that  it  was 
necessary  to  prepare  not  only  against  the  Bulgarians, 
but  also  against  the  operations  of  the  Servian  army, 
which  was  advancing  with  great  rapidity  through 
Macedonia,  while  the  Montenegrins  were  actively 
engaged  in  Albania,  and  making  strenuous  efforts  to 


THE   TURKISH   WAR  OFFICE       157 

capture  Scutari.  At  the  same  time  the  Greeks  were 
pouring  across  the  mountain  passes  from  Thessaly, 
their  chief  objective  being,  of  course,  Salonica. 

To  oppose  this  formidable  combination  of  enemies 
Ali  Riza  Pasha,  with  an  army  of  about  100,000  men, 
was  operating  in  Macedonia.  His  Hne  of  communi- 
cation by  land  was  threatened  by  the  Allies,  and 
the  fact  that  the  Greeks  had  control  of  his  com- 
munication by  sea  practically  isolated  him  before 
the  war  was  generally  commenced. 

After  this  necessary  explanation  with  reference  to 
the  disposition  of  the  opposing  forces  in  the  various 
fields  of  operation,  I  may  refer  to  the  results  of 
my  visit  to  the  War  Ofiice. 

It  is  a  large  and  substantial  block  of  buildings, 
beautifully  situated  in  that  portion  of  the  city 
which  overlooks  the  Golden  Horn,  the  Bosphorus, 
and  the  distant  mountains  of  Asia  Minor,  which 
could  be  seen  silvered  with  the  early  frost  and 
snows  of  winter.  The  approach  to  the  War  Office 
is  by  a  huge  archway  into  a  large  open  space  over- 
looked by  balconies,  and  bisected  by  broad  corridors 
communicating  with  the  various  offices  of  the  de- 
partment. 

My  intention  was  to  see  Nazim  Pasha,  the 
brilliant  War  Minister  and  Commander-in-Chief,  who 
unfortunately  was  shot  during  the  brief  revolution 
which  evicted  Kiamil  and  his  Cabinet  from  office,  that 
coup  d'etat  which  so  greatly  surprised  Europe  and 
immensely  complicated  the  settlement  at  which  the 


158     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

peace  delegates  at  the  London  Conference  were  en- 
deavouring to  arrive. 

As  it  was  not  possible  to  see  Nazim  Pasha  on 
that  occasion,  I  was  introduced  to  Izzard  Bey,  a 
major  on  the  headquarters  staff,  under  whose  charge 
the  war  correspondents  and  their  affairs  had  been 
placed.  This  amiable  gentleman  gave  me  a  brief 
resume  of  the  rules  which  had  been  drawn  up  for 
the  guidance  of  the  correspondent  de  guerre.  Per- 
sonally I  found  nothing  unreasonable  in  them,  but 
some  of  my  confreres  objected  to  the  restrictions 
placed  upon  them. 

Among  the  correspondents  I  was  very  pleased 
to  meet  at  Constantinople  were  several  of  my  old 
Tripoli  friends.  Mr.  S.  M.  Bennett  was  there  in 
the  capacity  of  Press  Censor,  or  rather  to  assist  and 
advise  the  Turkish  Censor  on  matters  relating  to 
the  English  correspondents.  It  was  a  thankless 
task,  but  one  that  he  performed  with  the  greatest 
tact  and  impartiality.  I  did  not  envy  him  his 
responsibility  or  that  of  the  Turkish  Censor,  Major 
Washki  Bey,  for  it  always  requires  the  exercise  of 
considerable  judgment  and  good  temper. 

There  were  many  correspondents  of  different 
nationalities  who  patronised  the  Pera  Palace  Hotel, 
for  the  reason  that  much  of  the  latest  news  found 
its  way  there  from  the  front. 

The  hotel  is  rather  pretentious  in  appearance 
than  noted  for  its  good  cooking,  and  I  preferred  my 
simpler  hostel  with  its  generous  and  varied  menu. 


THE   TURKISH   WAR   OFFICE       159 

There  is  a  camaraderie  among  war  correspondents 
in  the  field  which  enables  them  to  be  of  mutual 
service  to  each  other,  and  many  were  the  interesting 
talks  we  had  with  reference  to  the  progress  of  the 
war. 

"  This  is  going  to  be  a  record  campaign  as  far 
as  expenses  go,"  said  one  of  my  colleagues,  who  was 
staying  at  the  same  hotel.  "  You  must  have  quite 
a  big  outfit,  including  two  saddle  horses  and  enough 
pack  animals  to  carry  your  camping  outfit,  as  well 
as  your  servants  and  supplies  of  food  for  three 
months." 

The  horse  question  was  a  serious  one.  The  War 
Office  were  commandeering  horses  right  and  left ; 
even  the  tram  horses  were  taken,  while  a  permit  was 
required  to  keep  one  horse  in  Constantinople. 

The  animals  which  had  round  their  necks  a  wire 
with  a  small  bead  were  indicated  as  "harem" 
(sacred),  and  could  not  be  taken  by  the  soldiers.  Even 
strangers  were  sometimes  put  to  the  greatest  incon- 
venience  owing  to  the  liability  of  their  animals  being 
seized  by  the  war  authorities.  If  this  took  place 
in  some  distant  part  of  the  city,  the  unhappy 
strangers  would  have  to  find  their  way  back  as  best 
they  could. 

One  lady  friend  of  mine  went  to  see  the  Sultan 
pass  on  his  way  to  the  mosque.  The  horses  were 
claimed  by  the  Government,  notwithstanding  her 
expostulation.  Fortunately  for  her  a  Turkish  officer, 
who  understood  English,   came  to  the  rescue,   with 


i6o    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  result  that  the  driver  (a  cabman)  was  granted 
leave  to  drive  the  lady  to  her  hotel,  but  he  was 
ordered  to  bring  back  the  animals. 

It  is  an  ill  wind  that  brings  nobody  any  good, 
and  in  the  circumstances  it  is  scarcely  surprising 
that  attempts  should  have  been  made  to  take  advan- 
tage of  the  urgent  necessity  for  the  correspondents 
to  secure  horses.  They  could  not  do  without  them, 
and  they  had  to  pay  heavily  for  animals  best  fitted 
for  the  purpose.  Consequently  horse-flesh  jumped 
up  in  price  two  hundred  per  cent.,  and  it  was  an 
open  secret  that  some  of  the  ofi&cials  "  made  hay 
while  the  sun  shone." 

While  dealing  with  this  question  I  may  add 
that,  notwithstanding  the  many  complaints  that 
were  made  from  time  to  time  during  the  campaign 
in  connection  with  the  General  Post  Office  at 
Stamboul,  it  was,  in  my  opinion,  conducted  as  well 
as  similar  institutions  in  other  capitals.  I  was 
assured  by  several  business  firms  there  that  they 
utilised  the  Post  Office  to  a  large  extent,  and  that 
their  experience  was  that  their  letters  were  delivered 
through  it  quite  as  satisfactorily  as  through  the 
foreign  post  offices  in  Constantinople.  Speaking 
from  personal  experience,  I  can  confirm  their  state- 
ments, and  it  is  interesting,  in  this  connection,  to 
quote  from  the  official  reply  made  by  the  Ottoman 
Government  to  the  Powers  in  regard  to  the  negotia- 
tions for  peace. 

"  The   Porte   believes   that   it   is  .    .    .   indispeu- 


THE   TURKISH   WAR   OFFICE       i6i 

sable  to  abolish  the  foreign  post  offices  existing 
in  Turkey  on  conditions  which  it  would  be  easy 
to  determine,  that  would  offer  commerce  all  the 
necessary  guarantees  of  celerity  and  security  in  postal 
matters." 

It  is  my  conviction  that  if  this  plan  were  adopted, 
it  would  not  only  be  a  fairer  arrangement  so  far 
as  correspondents  are  concerned,  but  it  would  result 
in  general  benefit  in  which  the  various  foreign 
countries  would  participate,  while  the  reading  public 
would  also  be  safeguarded  against  the  issue  of  false 
and  alarming  reports. 

I  would  here  like  to  bear  testimony  to  the  cama- 
raderie of  representatives  of  foreign  newspapers,  and 
the  facility  with  which  they  discharged  their  respon- 
sible duties  under  most  restricted  and  difficult  cir- 
cumstances. They  worked  most  amiicably  with  the 
special  correspondents  representing  the  British  Press, 
and  their  light-hearted  natures  considerably  enlivened 
many  depressing  intervals  of  waiting  during  the 
campaign.  The  great  advantages  they  possess  in 
being  good  linguists  enabled  them  to  be  of  no  little 
assistance  to  myself  and  others,  and  they  rendered 
this  service  in  a  most  ungrudging  and  generous 
manner.  I  have  retained  very  pleasant  memories 
of  my  association  with  them  during  the  war,  and 
I  look  forward  with  happy  anticipations  of  renewing 
my  acquaintance  and  friendship  with  them. 

The  common  dangers  and  difficulties  attendant 
upon  the  discharge  of  our  duties  cemented  our  rela- 

L 


i62     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

tions,  and  will  undoubtedly  contribute  to  the  growth 
of  a  better  understanding  among  the  people  they 
represent. 

Before  leaving  this  branch  of  my  subject  it  may 
be  interesting  to  some  of  my  readers  to  know  the 
qualifications  necessary  in  a  war  correspondent.  Good 
health  and  strong  nerves  are  most  essential,  while 
quick  judgment  is  indispensable.  It  is  a  profession 
that  gives  one  no  time  to  think,  or  to  correct  mis- 
takes or  blunders.  On  receipt  of  orders  to  proceed  to 
any  part  of  the  world,  a  correspondent  must  be  pre- 
pared to  start  by  the  next  train  or  boat ;  to  take  the 
straightest  route  to  his  destination ;  and  to  telegraph 
on  arrival  his  address  to  the  ofiice  of  his  newspaper. 
He  must  call  without  delay  on  the  War  Minister  or 
Commander-in-Chief  of  the  army  to  which  he  is  to 
be  attached,  to  present  his  credentials,  to  ask  for 
a  licence,  or  permit,  and  to  follow  the  operations 
whilst  awaiting  instructions  from  the  editor. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   SOUL   OF  ISLAM 

Unlike  many  other  cities  in  the  world,  Constan- 
tinople did  not  disappoint  me.  It  had  been  the 
dream  of  my  life  to  see  it,  my  imagination  having 
been  excited  by  the  romantic  history  of  this  far- 
famed  capital  of  Islam.  I  had  visited  most  of  the 
capitals  of  Europe,  but  Constantinople  greatly  im- 
pressed me,  and  aroused  all  my  artistic  enthusiasm. 
There  is  a  constant  mystery  and  glamour  about  it 
which  has  the  effect  upon  you  of  exciting  the  imagina- 
tion, while  it  intensifies  the  spiritual  part  of  you  as 
compared  with  the  physical,  and  creates  an  inde- 
finable yearning  to  understand  some  of  its  veiled 
mysteries. 

When  I  stood  on  the  shores  of  the  clear  and 
shining  waters  of  the  Bosphorus,  with  the  minareted 
mosques  piercing  the  sky,  I  was  soothed  by  the 
musical  calls  of  the  boatmen  and  labourers  as  they 
cheerfully  bore  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day. 
Undisturbed  by  the  constant  jar  and  noise  of  modern 
machinery,  I  felt  that  I  could  spend  the  rest  of  my 
life  amid  such  enchanting  surroundings. 

It  gave  me  almost  the  key  to  the  little-under- 
stood mind  of  the  Moslem,  and  enabled  me  to  pene- 
trate some  of  the  mystery  of  the  East.     I  had  often 

163 


1 64     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

heard  of  the  "call"  of  Asia,  and  I  could  appreciate 
it  better  than  I  had  ever  done  before. 

At  first  I  could  not  understand  the  languorous 
ease  of  the  people  there,  but  in  conversation  with 
some  of  the  principal  residents,  I  was  almost  con- 
vinced that  if  I  lived  at  Constantinople  for  a  term 
of  years,  I  should  gradually  and  insensibly  become 
infected  with  the  spirit  of  it,  and  feel  that  I  would 
not  wish  to  exchange  the  peace  and  contentment 
engendered  in  such  an  atmosphere  for  the  life  of 
turmoil  which  represents  the  Western  notions  of 
civilisation. 

From  an  artistic  point  of  view,  the  shipping  groups 
itself  naturally  into  the  harmony  and  composition 
of  the  picture,  both  as  regards  form  and  colour,  and 
blends  with  the  graceful  lines  and  contours  of  the 
architectural  background  for  which  the  city  is  so 
justly  famed. 

Looking  across  the  Bosphorus  towards  Asia, 
enchanting  views  meet  and  satisfy  the  eye  at 
every  turn.  The  only  discordant  feature  in  the 
almost  perfect  scene  is  the  German  railway  station 
on  the  Asiatic  side,  which  with  its  hard,  straight, 
rigid  lines  kills  the  spirit  of  the  picture. 

Seen  under  the  efiects  of  a  gorgeous  Eastern 
sunset,  the  city  is  transformed  by  the  magic  blend 
of  colours  into  a  fairyland  of  beauty  and  mystic 
attraction,  which  may  account  for  the  charm  and 
fascination  it  has  always  had  for  the  visitor  to  this 
greatly  favoured  land. 


THE   SOUL   OF   ISLAM  165 

I  was  pleased  to  find  an  absence  of  mechanical 
noises  and  distractions,  but  it  caused  me  quite  a 
pang  to  see,  in  such  primitive  and  natural  sur- 
roundings, modern  and  practical  methods  of  loco- 
motion, which  seemed  to  be  quite  out  of  harmony 
with  the  almost  ancient  atmosphere  of  the  scene. 
There  are  horse  tramways  running  leisurely  and 
at  long  intervals  through  the  streets,  indicating  the 
introduction  of  the  more  strenuous  Western  methods 
which  are  gradually  penetrating  the  capital.  There 
is  also  a  somewhat  objectionable  underground  railway, 
extending  for  a  distance  of  about  two  miles  from 
Galata  to  Pera,  which  by  the  way  is  extensively 
patronised  by  the  more  advanced  and  business-like 
portion  of  the  population. 

Speaking  of  the  tramways,  I  should  mention  that 
that  means  of  locomotion  was  stopped  from  the  out- 
break of  the  war,  the  Government  having  requisitioned 
all  the  horses.  A  feature  of  the  tramcars  is  the 
arrangement  made  in  them  for  women.  The  front 
part  of  the  cars  is  usually  screened  off  for  them, 
and  is  regarded  as  "  harem." 

The  continuous  stream  of  redifs  (conscripts) 
imparts  a  martial  air  to  the  streets,  but  there  is 
an  obvious  lack  of  outward  enthusiasm,  including 
encouragement  by  the  female  element,  which  does 
so  much  to  stimulate  and  inspire  soldiers  in  other 
countries.  The  display  of  sentiment  there  is  very 
slight,  although  I  witnessed  some  pathetic  scenes  at 
family  partings.     As  the  regiments  of  soldiers  pro- 


1 66     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

ceed  to  the  railway  station  they  march  to  dirge-like 
music  which,  to  European  ears,  is  melancholy  in  the 
extreme,  and  is  little  calculated  to  raise  their  spirits. 
Underlying  this  veil  of  constraint,  however,  there 
is  a  deep  enthusiasm  for  Islam  and  the  Sultan,  that 
makes  the  Turkish  soldier  such  a  formidable  foe. 

Constantinople  is  guarded  and  patrolled  by  the 
firemen.  The  brown  and  grey  of  their  kharki,  added 
to  the  uniforms  of  the  soldiers,  with  the  bright  red 
helmet  of  antique  pattern  worn  by  the  firemen,  and 
the  smart  grey  and  silver  tunic,  and  white  astrakhan 
hepi  of  the  police,  present  a  picturesque  harmony  of 
colour  in  the  streets. 

Flocks  of  sheep  and  turkeys  are  driven  to  market 
through  the  crowded  thoroughfares.  Buffaloes  creep 
steadily  along  drawing  loads  that  might  almost  stop 
a  traction  engine  ;  trains  of  packhorses,  donkeys,  and 
porters  facilitate  transportation. 

All  plod  heavily  along  with  back-breaking  burdens. 
It  is  a  picture  of  fourteenth-century  life. 

The  telephone  system  is  being  introduced,  but 
I  was  informed  that  some  misunderstanding  in  the 
wording  of  the  documents  connected  with  the  con- 
cession had  temporarily  stopped  the  work.  It  will, 
however,  be  completed  in  course  of  time. 

With  all  the  inconvenience,  however,  one  would 
prefer  to  let  matters  rest  as  they  are.  It  seems  like 
vandalism  to  standardise  the  city  to  one  drab 
reality. 

Pera,  the   more   residential   portion  of  the  city, 


THE   SOUL   OF   ISLAM  167 

has  many  handsome  modern  buildings,  and  is  laid 
out  entirely  on  modern  principles ;  and  there,  skulk- 
ing behind  a  new  terrace  of  buildings,  stands  a 
picturesque  wooden  house  of  old  Constantinople  in 
a  state  of  semi-decay. 

Down  the  hill  towards  the  Galata  bridge,  a  pic- 
turesque steep  street  with  tortuous  stairways  leads 
up  to  the  hill  of  Galata,  crowned  by  the  historic 
tower. 

The  new  bridge  would  be  a  credit  to  any  city  in 
the  world.  It  spans  the  Golden  Horn,  and  a  small 
toll  is  demanded  for  passing  over  to  Stamboul.  There 
is  a  pleasanter  way  by  the  ferry-boats.  The  charge 
is  30  para  (threepence),  but  this  can  be  shared  by 
any  number  of  passengers  within  the  prescribed  limit. 
It  is  well  worth  the  experience  to  make  the  crossing 
by  these  comfortable  ferry-boats,  which  are  very  gaily 
painted  and  rendered  attractive  by  coloured  cushions. 
A  fine  panorama  of  marine  life  presents  itself  to  the 
eye  The  numberless  masts  and  sails  of  the  ancient 
sailing  ships  contribute  a  most  striking  and  agreeable 
foreground  to  Stamboul,  with  its  hundred  minarets 
and  domes  of  beautiful  mosques. 

The  railway  station  and  depots  are,  of  course, 
modern,  but  the  approaches  are  a  combination  of 
squalor  and  filth.  Rickety  chairs  fill  the  side- walks 
outside  the  dilapidated  cafes,  which  line  the  road  on 
either  side.  Unpromising  as  the  cafes  look,  the  coffee 
they  provide  is  most  excellent. 

I  purchased  for  my  journey  a  number  of  requisites, 


168     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

which  are  cheaper  in  the  Stamboul  bazaars  than  in 
the  modern  shops  at  Pera.  The  invariable  Sahm 
accompanied  me  "to  make  bazaar" — Sahm's  term  for 
bargaining.  I  found  the  Turkish  quilts  to  be  the 
warmest  and  best  for  my  bed ;  while  waterproof 
sheets  were  absolutely  indispensable,  for  obvious 
reasons.  A  small  tente  d'ahri  completed  my  outfit. 
Many  of  my  confreres  laid  in  supplies  and  tentage 
enough  for  half  a  dozen  people,  and,  much  to  their 
sorrow,  most  of  it  had  to  be  thrown  away. 

Calling  at  the  Pera  Hotel,  on  my  way  back  to 
the  Tokatlian,  I  met  Sir  Bryan  Leighton,  a  great 
sportsman,  who  looks  upon  war  as  a  pastime.  He 
had  just  come  out  with  a  kinematograph  apparatus, 
and  an  operator  to  work  it.  I  paid  daily  visits  to 
the  War  Office,  and  sketched  Nazim  Pasha  and 
some  of  the  staff  at  work  in  the  bureau,  a  large 
airy  room,  the  dominant  note  of  colour  in  which 
was  red.  So  unique  was  this  room  that  a  brief 
description  of  it  may  be  of  interest.  It  was  entered 
through  heavy  portiere  curtains,  and  the  necessary 
privacy  was  secured  by  means  of  a  large  screen. 
One's  feet  sank  deeply  into  the  thick  pile  of  a 
rich  Turkish  carpet.  There  were  no  tables,  with  the 
exception  of  a  writing-table  at  which  Nazim  Pasha 
sat.  The  ornamentation  of  the  room  was  of  a  simple 
but  luxurious  character.  Over  the  fireplace  was 
a  mantelpiece  of  pure  white  Parian  marble,  richly 
carved  in  exquisite  designs.  Above  this  was  a  large 
and  handsome   mirror.     On  the   mantelpiece  was   a 


THE   SOUL   OF   ISLAM  169 

heavily  gilt  ormolu  clock,  with  corresponding  orna- 
ments of  the  same  character.  At  each  end  stood  a 
candelabra  of  curious  pattern  and  workmanship. 

Between  the  fireplace  and  the  window  stood  the 
desk  at  which  the  famous  General  did  his  corre- 
spondence. It  struck  me  that  the  Pasha  worked  very 
systematically,  for  there  was  no  confusion  of  papers 
on  the  desk,  and  its  general  appearance  seemed  to 
give  the  key  to  Nazim's  character. 

I  little  then  imagined  that  the  shadow  of  the 
great  tragedy  which  was  to  overtake  the  then  Com- 
mander-in-Chief of  the  Turkish  forces,  would  so  soon 
add  to  the  difficulty  of  settling  the  Eastern  problem. 

At  the  time  I  had  the  privilege  and  opportunity 
of  interviewing  him,  he  was  giving  orders  in  all 
directions.  He  paused  at  intervals  to  listen  to  the 
report  of  Moukbil  Bey,  the  former  military  attache  at 
Sofia,  who  had  just  arrived.  The  appearance  of  this 
charming  officer,  who  spoke  English  fairly  well,  and 
who  I  afterwards  found  to  be  a  most  interesting  and 
entertaining  companion,  formed  a  strong  contrast  to 
that  of  Nazim  Pasha,  the  Commander-in-Chief. 

I  rapidly  sketched  the  General  while  I  inter- 
viewed him  for  The  Illustrated  London  News.  He 
struck  me  as  a  very  remarkable  man.  Built  on 
heroic  classic  lines,  he  might  in  his  early  days  have 
sat  for  the  portrait  of  a  Boman  conqueror.  In 
appearance  and  manner  he  was  fifty  years  old,  but  he 
was  really  beyond  that  age ;  large  and  dignified  in  his 
military  greatcoat,  he  seemed  colossal,  with  head  set 


I70     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

well  on  broad,  evenly-balanced,  well-shaped  shoulders. 
He  had  the  look  and  gesture  of  one  born  to  command. 

The  face  might  justly  be  called  grand.  In  earlier 
days  he  must  have  been  handsome.  From  beneath 
the  rich  sable  fur  of  his  kepi,  his  eyes,  blue-grey  in 
colour,  looked  at  me  steadily,  almost  sternly.  Per- 
haps the  stern  expression  was  not  altogether  natural, 
for  the  radiating  lines  of  the  eyes  altered  their 
appearance  and  generally  softened  their  effect. 
These  were  indications  of  the  hon  camaraderie  of 
which  he  was  capable  when  he  chose.  His  nose  was 
dominant,  but  well-shaped ;  his  brown  moustache, 
slightly  touched  with  iron-grey,  did  not  conceal  a 
firm,  determined  mouth,  and  a  strongly-built  square 
jaw,  which  gave  him  a  somewhat  aggressive  appear- 
ance. He  spoke  French  fluently,  with  all  the  gestures 
and  manners  of  a  Frenchman. 

He  was  very  gracious  to  me,  taking  great  interest 
in  my  artistic  work  from  time  to  time.  Amid  the 
responsibilities  of  his  important  ofiice  I  left  him, 
agreeably  impressed  by  his  personality,  and  fully 
able  to  apply  to  him  the  description  given  by  Prince 
Bismarck:  "The  Turk  is  the  finest  gentleman  in 
Europe." 


X^^JC  1^ 


1 


m     -'.^r^ 


NAZIM    PASHA 
A  Sketch  from  life  by  the  Author 


CHAPTER  IV 

OFF   TO   THE   FRONT 

At  the  close  of  my  memorable  interview  with  Nazim 
Pasha,  which  will  long  remain  in  my  memory,  owing 
to  his  unfortunate  "  accident,"  the  General  introduced 
me  to  Izzad  Bey,  and  in  the  course  of  a  conversation 
I  had  with  him,  he  told  me  in  confidence  that  all 
the  war  correspondents  would  be  allowed  to  go  to 
Kirk  Kilisse  in  a  day  or  two. 

Izzad  Bey  is  a  generous  open-hearted  man,  whose 
real  disposition  often  struggles  with  his  dignity  ;  he 
has  sometimes  to  give  way  to  the  official  manner.  I 
cannot  speak  too  highly  of  the  consideration  shown 
by  him  to  the  members  of  the  Fourth  Estate. 

Knowing  as  they  did  that  correspondents  would 
reveal  the  true  state  of  affairs  at  the  front,  the 
Turkish  officials  displayed  a  patience  and  good  temper 
which  did  them  credit  under  such  difficult  circum- 
stances. It  must  have  been  trying  to  them  to 
have  to  answer  so  many  direct  questions  of  the 
correspondents,  but  they  succeeded  in  imparting  such 
items  of  information  as  were  at  their  disposal.  They 
thus  prevented  the  hungry  Press  representatives 
from  raging  too  furiously.  They  softened  the  dis- 
appointment of  the  correspondents  in  a  very  tactful 


172     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

way,  and  I  doubt  whether  the  Censors  of  any  other 
army  would  have  emerged  more  satisfactorily  from 
the  ordeal. 

Compared  with  the  experience  of  our  colleagues 
who  were  attached  to  the  armies  of  the  Allies,  we 
who  were  with  the  Turks  were  treated  handsomely, 
if  not  generously.  At  the  time  we  did  not  realise 
that  the  campaign  was  progressing  so  unsatisfactorily 
for  the  Turks,  but  we  afterwards  discovered  that  they 
were  on  the  losing  side. 

At  last  the  day  we  had  been  so  anxiously  await- 
ing arrived.  A  train  was  placed  at  the  service  of  a 
number  of  the  correspondents,  whose  baggage  practi- 
cally filled  it.  There  was  not  room  for  all  of  them. 
The  start  was  to  have  been  made  in  the  dim  hours 
of  the  early  morning. 

At  four  o'clock  the  same  afternoon  the  train  was 
still  at  the  platform.  The  first  contingent  did  at 
last  get  off,  and  with  the  exception  of  a  railway 
accident,  which  caused  a  delay  of  a  day,  they  reached 
Tchorlu.  Their  original  destination  was  Baba  Eski. 
As  the  world  knows  now  there  were  very  particular 
reasons  why  this  plan  was  not  followed.  Rumours 
flew  round  that  the  Turks  had  won  a  big  battle  at 
Kirk  Kilisse,  and  that  the  Bulgarians  were  put  to 
flight.  The  question  they  asked  themselves  was — 
was  Adrianople  invested?  The  very  air  was  thick 
with  mystery.  Bit  by  bit  the  news  leaked  out ; 
there  had  been  hand-to-hand  fighting  at  Kirk  Kilisse, 
the    Turks    had   been   beaten,    and    Baba   Eski   was 


OFF   TO   THE   FRONT  173 

already  in  the  hands  of  the  Bulgarians,  whilst 
Adrianople  had  sent  its  last  message  to  the  outer 
world. 

Everywhere  we  heard  the  same  sad  story,  that 
Turkish  armies  were  being  defeated.  The  news 
affected  neither  the  spirits  nor  the  faith  of  the 
Turks,  that  finally  victory  would  crown  their  efforts. 

These  disasters  were  not  due  to  want  of  valour 
or  determination  on  the  part  of  the  Turks,  but 
were  simply  and  solely  due  to  a  lack  of  organisa- 
tion and  an  apparent  total  disregard  of  the  simplest 
principles  of  modern  warfare. 

There  is  much  to  be  said  in  palliation  of  the 
Turkish  dehdde,  for  the  country  is  divided  in  opinion 
in  regard  to  the  new  regime.  The  new  Parliament, 
which  was  going  to  work  such  wonders,  brought 
about  the  neglect  of  every  vital  principle.  It  was 
essential  that  the  army  should  be  run  on  new  lines. 
The  Old  Guard,  as  one  might  describe  the  ancient 
veteran  officers,  were  discharged  to  make  room  for 
the  good-looking,  smartly-dressed  academy  soldiers ; 
who  were  of  good  material,  but  lacking  altogether 
in  the  necessary  experience. 

The  navy  was  being  utterly  neglected.  Indeed, 
the  safety  of  the  nation  demanded  that  its  strength 
should  be  greatly  increased.  The  administration 
was  in  a  state  of  demoralisation.  There  were,  to 
use  a  metaphor,  half  a  dozen  Irelands  clamouring 
for  Home  Rule  or  separation.  All  these  different 
elements  were  being  stirred  up  and  taken  advantage 


174     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

of  by  the  ambitious   greed   and  lust  of  conquest  of 
powerful  neighbours. 

The  question  was,  what  could  Turkey  do  in  such 
circumstances?  What  could  any  country  do?  I 
was  there  during  this  cataclysm  of  woe.  I  saw 
nothing  unworthy  in  the  behaviour  of  the  population 
or  of  the  officials. 

The  Balkan  war  has  been  skilfully  and  shame- 
fully engineered  throughout  by  interested  nations. 
But  these  machinations  will  yet  prove  ineffective 
if  the  Turks  are  found  to  be  capable  of  adopting 
Western  methods  of  improvement  and  reform.  It 
is  not  too  late  even  now  to  retrieve  recent  mistakes, 
and  perhaps  the  bitter  lesson  they  have  gained  may 
yet  prove  to  be  a  blessing  in  disguise. 

Whom  is  she  to  trust?  The  past  she  cannot 
undo.  But  what  of  the  future  ?  The  loss  of  all  her 
fair  lands  will  follow  if  she  cannot  or  will  not  collect 
her  energies  and  bring  about  the  necessary  reorgani- 
sation. Her  children  have  outgrown  discipline,  and 
have  been  working  on  opposing  lines.  Why  should 
Turkey  not  enter  into  partnership  with  these  young 
virile  States,  and  by  this  means  save  the  remnant 
of  their  country  in  Europe  and  prevent  altogether 
any  inroads  upon  her  Asiatic  territory? 


CHAPTER  V 

GREAT  BRITAIN  AND  THE  EASTERN  PROBLEM 

In  view  of  recent  exciting  developments  in  the 
Near  East,  Turkey  has  become  the  cynosure  of  all 
eyes.  Those  who  have  followed  the  course  of  inter- 
national diplomacy  and  the  concatenation  of  striking 
events,  cannot  fail  to  have  noted  the  fact  that 
the  Turkish  dominions  have  been  regarded  by  some 
of  the  Powers  as  a  sort  of  Naboth's  vineyard. 

While  referring  to  her  unhappy  and  extremely 
difficult  position  as  a  declining  Power  in  Europe,  it 
is  almost  impossible  to  ignore  the  fact  that  our  own 
country  is  vitally  and  practically  interested  in  the 
solution  of  the  existing  problems  in  the  Near  East. 
For  many  years  Britain's  influence  was  predomi- 
nant with  the  Sublime  Porte,  but  we  have  unfor- 
tunately allowed  other  Powers  to  deprive  us  largely 
of  this  advantage,  which  was  so  essential  to  us  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  His  Majesty  has  undoubtedly 
a  larger  number  of  Mahomedan  subjects  in  India 
and  Egypt  and  other  parts  of  the  Empire  than  can 
be  found  in  any  country  except  in  Turkey. 

My  own  personal  experience  has  enabled  me  to 
realise,  more  perhaps  than  many  people  who  stay  at 
home,  the  great  importance  of  maintaining  our 
influence  in  the   Moslem   world.     I  fully  appreciate 

I7S 


1 76     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

and  recognise  the  delicacy  and  difficulties  of  the 
existing  situation,  but  my  firm  conviction  is  that 
England  ought  not  to  allow  any  other  Power 
to  secure  a  controlling  influence  in  Mahomedan 
aflairs.  I  would  go  so  far  as  to  say  that,  although 
the  position  of  Turkey  at  the  present  time  may  seem 
to  be  somewhat  depressing,  there  is  in  the  nation 
an  inherent  power  of  recuperation  which,  if  properly 
utilised  and  directed,  should  enable  her  to  still  act 
as  the  "buffer  of  Europe." 

One  of  the  facts  which  cannot  be  ignored,  is  that 
British  interests  in  Turkey  and  in  the  Near  East 
are  greater  than  those  of  any  other  Power.  Not 
only  financially,  but  politically,  religiously  and 
strategically,  it  is  absolutely  certain  that  any  mis- 
taken policy  on  our  part  would  create  great  bar- 
riers to  our  Imperial  progress  and  position  as  an 
all-world  Power. 

In  times  past  the  dangers  of  an  invasion  of  India 
have  often  cast  a  gloom  upon  the  people  of  this 
country.  Russia  was  then  regarded  as  our  greatest 
rival,  and  it  was  generally  supposed  that  she  had 
very  ambitious  designs  in  regard  to  our  Indian 
possessions.  The  situation  has  now  somewhat 
changed,  but  the  fact  remains  that  Turkey  is  on  the 
highroad  to  India,  and  that  the  old  danger  is  largely 
accentuated  by  the  increased  power  of  Germany. 
Her  manifest  intention,  with  her  augmented  navy, 
to  become  a  controlling  influence,  not  only  in 
Turkey    itself,    but     in    the     afl'airs     of    the    East 


THE   EASTERN   PROBLEM  177 

generally,  renders  it  absolutely  imperative  that 
we  should  take  such  precautions  to  maintain  our 
position  and  influence  there  as  the  development 
of  affairs  demand. 

We  have,  of  course,  with  our  extensive  dominions, 
upon  which  the  sun  never  sets,  no  desire  to  acquire 
further  territory,  but,  at  the  same  time,  we  cannot 
blind  ourselves  to  the  obvious  intentions  of  some  of 
our  rivals  to  diminish  our  prestige  in  world  politics, 
especially  in  the  East.  There  is,  I  am  afraid,  some 
danger  of  allowing  the  concentration  of  our  fleets 
in  the  North  Sea  to  divert  our  attention  from  the 
weakness  of  our  position  in  the  Mediterranean. 

Recent  developments  in  the  Near  East  should 
convince  any  student  of  the  international  position 
of  the  necessity  of  maintaining  our  naval  power  in 
those  waters  at  such  strength  as  will  enable  us 
to  meet  emergencies  and  complications  which  can 
scarcely  fail  to  ensue  if  it  is  found  that  too  great 
attention  is  being  paid  to  the  North  Sea  and  too 
little  to  our  highway  to  India. 

I    admit    that    the    existing    position    of    affairs, 

so    far   as   the    Near    East    is    concerned,   is    a    very 

delicate   one,  and  that  the  future   diplomacy  of  the 

British  Government  must  be  shaped  largely  by  the 

latest   events.     From  my  own   personal   experiences 

during  the  recent  campaign,  my  conviction  has  been 

strengthened  that  it  would  be  in  the  best  interests 

of  this  country  if  some   means   could  be   devised  of 

a,ssisting  Turkey,  diplomatically  or  otherwise,  without 

M 


178     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

seriously  offending  the  susceptibilities  of  Europe,  to 
emerge  from  the  crisis.  It  would  be  a  fatal  mistake 
to  allow  any  other  Power  to  become  the  dominat- 
ing influence  in  that  part  of  the  world. 

Europe  has  set  the  pace  of  naval  expansion  and 
development,  and  the  Western  nations  have  realised 
this  much  more  fully  than  Turkey. 

The  recent  wars  in  which  Turkey  has  been  en- 
gaged have  provided  object  lessons  and  convincing 
proofs  of  the  great  extent  to  which  she  has  been 
handicapped  by  her  lack  of  ships.  Had  her  naval 
power  been  greater  when  her  war  with  Italy  in 
regard  to  Tripoli  was  commenced,  she  would  probably 
not  now  have  been  in  such  a  humiliated  position. 

Then  again,  in  her  struggle  with  Greece  and  the 
Balkan  Allies,  she  has  been  practically  defence- 
less on  the  seas.  Her  comparatively  small  navy, 
inadequately  manned  and  armed,  has  not  hitherto 
been  able  to  play  a  great  part  even  against  the 
Greek  fleet. 

The  loss  of  some  of  the  islands  in  the  ^gean 
Sea  contributed  greatly  to  the  immense  difficulties 
of  defending  the  Dardanelles,  as  well  as  of  protect- 
ing the  lines  of  communication  during  the  war. 

The  moral  of  the  whole  situation  is  that  Turkey 
must  in  the  near  future  greatly  strengthen  her  naval 
position,  or  her  latter  end  may  be  a  bad  one, 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE   LINES  OF   COMMUNICATION 

A  BRILLIANT  sun  gleamed  on  the  dancing  waters  of 
the  Bosphorus  as  we  steamed  through  the  shadows  of 
Stamboul's  ancient  and  battlemented  walls. 

"  Why  don't  they  repair  and  fortify  them  ? "  ex- 
claimed Bennett.  "  They  could  hold  their  own  even 
now  against  modern  guns." 

Constantinople  proper  is  surrounded  by  walls,  the 
Theodosian  walls  on  the  land  side  forming  a  triple 
circumvallation.  Time  has  dealt  gently  with  the 
lofty  battlements ;  although  the  fig  and  other  hardy 
trees  and  climbing  plants  are  now  feeding  on  some  of 
the  decayed  and  crum.bling  fortifications. 

As  we  passed  the  site  of  Stamboul's  ancient 
water  cisterns,  Bennett  related  stories  of  the  old 
Greek  wars,  in  which  the  terrible  Greek  fire  was  first 
used. 

The  market  gardens,  which  supply  the  city  with 
vegetables  and  fruit,  are  left  behind,  and  we  stop 
at  San  Stephano,  of  historic  fame.  How  many 
treaties  have  been  signed  within  its  precincts ! 

The  afternoon  slowly  wore  on,  and  the  strong  light 
threw  every  object  into  bold  relief  At  Haden  Kella 
the   train   halted   for   a    brief    space,    giving   us   an 


i8o    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

opportunity  of  studying  the  famous  Tchatalja  lines, 
designed  by  the  late  Baker  Pasha.  Even  without 
its  formidable  redoubts,  the  terrain  itself  looked 
unassailable.  A  deep  valley,  watered  by  the  river 
and  a  wide  shallow  lake,  defies  the  approach  of  a 
foe  from  that  direction.  The  one  and  only  road 
runs  by  way  of  a  long  narrow  bridge  which  con- 
nects the  mainland  with  the  village  of  Biyuk 
Checkmedge ;  as  a  further  protection  this  bridge  is 
mined. 

The  centre  of  the  position  is  a  hard  nut  to  crack. 
Its  rising  hills  provide  an  ideal  situation  for  artillery, 
and  for  digging  rifle  trenches.  It  is  across  the  low- 
lying  plain,  between  these  heights  and  the  hills 
opposite,  that  any  attacking  enemy  must  perforce 
advance  under  a  murderous  fire  from  guns  and  rifles. 
At  the  Derekoi  end  of  the  line  shallow  lagoons  and 
morasses  protect  the  right  flank  of  the  Ottoman 
defences.  But  Tchatalja's  flanks  do  not  depend 
entirely  on  trenches  and  fortresses.  The  guns  of 
the  battleships,  which  have  a  range  of  five  miles 
inland,  guard  the  sea  ends  of  the  lines  with  their 
wide-sweeping  fire.  A  network  of  barbed  wire 
creates  still  further  obstacles  to  the  attack,  rendering 
these  famous  lines  practically  impervious. 

Tchatalja,  the  village  which  gives  its  name  to 
these  fortifications,  lies  a  few  miles  farther  along 
the  line  to  the  north-west.  The  railway  follows 
the  devious  windings  of  the  valley,  through  which 
meanders  an  insignificant  brook  which  falls  into  the 


THE   LINES    OF   COMMUNICATION     i8i 

lake,  a  valuable  feature  in  the  natural  scheme  of 
defence. 

As  we  crawled  along  at  the  rate  of  about  five 
miles  an  hour,  our  progress  was  impeded  by  long 
halts  on  the  sidings  to  allow  returning  trains,  filled 
with  sick  and  wounded,  to  pass  by  on  their  way 
to  the  hospitals  at  Stamboul. 

We  saw  heavy  reinforcements  marching  along  the 
road,  which,  like  the  railways,  follows  the  course  of 
the  depressions.  By  the  time  night  fell  we  composed 
ourselves  for  a  rest  as  best  we  could,  our  supper  con- 
sisting of  sardines,  bread,  and  a  bottle  of  excellent 
Roumanian  red  wine. 

We  made  very  little  progress  during  the  night, 
halting  at  frequent  intervals.  The  train  stopped  for 
a  very  long  time  in  a  deep  cutting,  which  gave  us 
an  opportunity,  not  only  of  stretching  our  limbs — a 
greatly  needed  relief  after  our  nine  hours'  journey  in 
rather  cramped  quarters — but  at  the  same  time  of 
watching  the  use  of  some  search-lights  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Kirk  Kilisse. 

The  dark  landscape  shaded  away  into  the  dim 
starlight.  The  only  sign  of  life  was  the  figure  of  the 
watchful  sentinel.  Nothing  else  was  to  be  seen  but 
the  orange  glow  of  the  train  lights  in  the  deep 
cutting  below,  and  wreaths  of  steam  from  the  hissing 
engine. 

The  following  afternoon  we  steamed  into  the 
bustle  of  Tcherkesh  Keui  station.  The  advanced 
base   is  an  important  place.     There  was   a   military 


1 82     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

post  there  in  normal  times,  and  the  barracks  and 
quarters  might  accommodate  a  company  of  infantry. 
Like  other  railway  stations,  it  was  strongly  guarded, 
this  railway  being  our  only  means  of  transport  at 
this  period  of  the  year,  when  the  roads  are  at  times 
impassable  on  account  of  the  deep  clinging  nature 
of  the  black  clay  soil. 

Piles  of  boxes,  bales,  and  bags  of  corn,  as  well 
as  equipment  for  military  requirements  of  all  kinds, 
covered  every  available  space  in  and  outside  the 
station.  Even  the  metals  in  some  cases  were  hidden 
by  heaps  of  gear  which  were  being  conveyed  by 
soldiers  to  the  side  of  the  station. 

The  water  supply  was  obtained  from  the  only 
well,  worked  by  means  of  a  pump,  the  handle  of 
which  was  missing.  A  group  of  thirsty  soldiers 
pressed  round  to  get  a  drink  from  the  well,  and  that 
water  was  worth  something  if  judged  by  the  amount 
of  labour  required  to  secure  it,  for  the  men  had  to 
balance  themselves  on  the  top  of  the  pump  and  pull 
at  the  sucker,  which  only  gave  them  a  few  drops  of 
the  precious  fluid. 

The  watering  took  a  very  long  time,  and  probably 
had  been  going  on  all  day,  for  the  process  was  slow 
and  exhausting.  But  these  petty  hardships  were 
accepted  with  true  Turkish  indifference.  No  one  was 
responsible  for  the  working  of  the  pump,  so  "what 
did  it  matter?"  This  was  a  phrase  which  satisfied 
everyone. 

Thousands  of  tons  of  charcoal  were  lying  about. 


THE   LINES   OF   COMMUNICATION     183 

Iron  bars  were  in  abundance,  and  smiths'  forges  were 
also  there  when  needed.  The  officers  in  charge  of  this 
base  took  thing's  in  their  usual  casual  manner. 

Noticing  the  word  "Restaurant"  over  a  door, 
visions  of  hot  coffee  at  the  very  least  floated  through 
my  mind,  but  the  idea  was  very  soon  dispelled. 
Instead  of  eatables,  the  counters  were  piled  with 
weapons — rifles,  bayonets,  swords,  &c.  Two  officers 
were  in  charge.  One  of  them  was  examining  a  very 
ancient  sabre,  while  the  other  was  busy  serving  out 
rifles  to  eager  applicants.  In  reply  to  inquiries  for 
information  as  to  the  state  of  affairs  at  the  front,  the 
only  response  was  "  There  is  none." 

The  headquarter  staff  were  camped  on  the  left- 
hand  side  of  the  station.  They  had  apparently  only 
just  arrived,  for  the  place  was  in  a  most  bewildering 
condition.  The  aristocratic  motor  cars  and  the  lowly 
bullock  waggons  were  garaged  side  by  side  in  a 
welter  of  muck. 

The  General's  tent  flew  his  banner,  which  was 
fastened  indifferently  to  either  motor-car  or  waggon. 
I  scrutinised  the  auto-cars  in  the  hope  of  recognising 
my  fellow -journalists'  machine.  As  they  were  not 
there  I  concluded  that  they  had  proceeded  to 
Tchorlu. 

There  were  signs  of  urgent  business  in  the  number 
of  gallopers  who  were  coming  and  going.  I  endea- 
voured to  interview  some  of  the  members  of  the 
staff,  but  they  were  far  too  busy  with  other  important 
matters  to  attend  to  my  request  for  news. 


i84     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Those  emblems  of  peace  and  goodwill  amongst 
men,  the  banners  of  the  Red  Cross  and  Red  Crescent, 
floated  amicably  side  by  side  over  the  crowded 
hospital  marquees,  whose  wounded  inmates  were 
having  a  very  bad  time,  suffering  from  the  heat 
during  the  day,  while  at  night  they  were  almost 
frozen  by  the  chill  winds  of  Thrace  uplands. 

The  most  remarkable  feature  in  the  hospital 
tents  was  the  wonderful  patience  and  endurance 
of  the  Turks  in  spite  of  excruciating  sufferings. 
One  cannot  fail  to  admire  it,  for  they  seldom  or 
never  complained  or  uttered  a  groan  whilst  the 
doctors  were  at  work  probing  and  cutting.  There 
was  an  abundance  of  medical  stores  and  ansesthetics, 
but  many  of  the  poor  soldiers  seemed  actually  to 
prefer  the  operation  to  be  carried  out  without  the 
administration  of  opiates,  which  they  regarded  as  a 
waste  of  time. 

The  deadly  typhoid  claimed  its  victims  in  hun- 
dreds, the  camp  being  infected  with  germs.  The 
bacillus  of  the  deadly  cholera  had  germinated  and 
dispersed  its  poisoned  messengers  over  the  country. 
The  patients  had  to  remain  in  these  crowded  evil- 
smelling  tents  until  they  could  be  forwarded  to 
the  hospitals  at  San  Stephano.  They  were  squatting 
or  lying  about  patiently,  and  all  looked  hungry. 
Those  that  could  walk  dragged  their  fever-stricken 
bones  along  the  long  weary  road,  while  others  in 
worse  case  rode  on  pack-horses.  The  pack  saddle, 
even  to  a  strong  healthy  man,  is  an  instrument  of 


THE   LINES   OF   COMMUNICATION     185 

torture.  All  the  hard  angles  grind  away  at  the 
most  sensitive  part  of  the  anatomy,  like  so  many 
tourniquets,  arrest  the  flow  of  blood  and  benumb 
the  feet  and  legs. 

Izzad  Bey  did  his  level  best  to  make  things 
comfortable  for  us,  but  we  stopped  so  long  at  this 
station  that  I  began  to  fear  we  were  never  going 
ahead.  It  was  not  until  after  midday  that  the  cheer- 
ful call  brought  us  like  boys  from  our  occupation. 
We  settled  in  our  places,  very  thankful  for  the  atten- 
tion shown  to  us  by  the  Turks. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  talking  and  chuckling 
as  we  waved  our  hands  to  the  soldiers  and  refugees, 
who  were  beginning  to  arrive  largely  in  excess  of 
the  accommodation.  There  were  buffalo  waggons 
piled  with  household  effects,  and  women  and  children 
in  scores,  sheltered  by  an  awning  of  straw  matting. 
The  unwieldy,  uncomfortable  country  vehicles  crawled 
along  amid  the  bitter  cries  and  groans  of  the  unoiled 
wheels,  which  had  the  appearance  of  being  built  of 
cardboard.  They  wobbled  very  much,  and  every 
moment  one  expected  to  see  a  collapse,  but  it  was 
wonderful  how  they  lasted  until  the  end  of  a  journey, 
tied  up  as  they  were  with  pieces  of  string,  and  fixed 
with  bits  of  stick ;  the  pace  was  snail-like,  but  there 
was  never  a  stop.  This  is  one  of  the  advantages  of 
pack  or  buffalo  travel.  Once  started,  nothing  stops 
them  until  the  drivers  call  a  halt  or  until  they  drop. 
A  wailing  sound  like  "  Ah-h-h ! "  the  preliminary  to 
a  jackal's  howl,  long-drawn  and  dismal,  encourages 


i86    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

them  along.     I  studied  this  call,  which  stood  me  in 
good  stead  later. 

The  small  station  was  mostly  built  with  wooden 
roofs,  red-tiled,  and  there  was  a  good-sized  compound 
or  garden,  well  cultivated,  in  which  the  stationmaster 
worked  during  his  leisure. 


r^  jjr^t^ 


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y. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE   BOOM  OF  THE   GUNS 

On  the  breeze  was  borne  a  faint  booming  sound  that 
all  recognised.  It  was  the  artillery  at  work  on  both 
sides.     The  battle  of  Lule  Burgas  had  begun. 

We  had  just  arrived  at  some  insignificant  station 
when  we  heard  these  portents.  Along  the  horizon 
in  the  same  direction  the  smoke  of  burning  villages 
sullied  the  purity  of  the  perfect  sky. 

Attaches  and  correspondents  stood  in  groups  in 
friendly  discussion,  arguing  and  wondering  as  to  the 
exact  direction  or  position  of  the  guns.  Nothing  could 
be  seen  of  the  battle,  which  was  raging  fiercely 
some  thirty  miles  to  the  north.  I  took  notes  and 
made  some  sketches ;  and  as  the  attaches  and  corre- 
spondents grouped  themselves  naturally  and  pic- 
turesquely, many  field-glasses  were  directed  at 
nothing  in  particular. 

We  steamed  on  to  Tchorlu  station,  which  lies  in 

a  hollow  or   dip  in   the    plain,  as   the  reverberating 

reports   were   accompanied  by    a   faint  crackling    as 

of  green  leaves  on  a  fire. 

Izzad  Bey  informed  me  that  some  correspondents 

were  in  the   town  of  Tchorlu,  about   two  miles  off. 

We  could  see  the  tall  minarets  and  windmills  showing 

up  over  the  crest  of  the  hilly  ridges  which  bounded 

187 


i88     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  valley.  It  was  another  splendid  position  for 
defence  which  had  been  quite  neglected. 

The  authorities  here  were  undecided  as  to  my 
movements.  I  would  have  liked  to  have  remained 
with  the  train.  It  would  have  been  war  corre- 
spondence in  luxury ;  a  comfortable  bed  at  night 
and  proper  food,  with  horses  to  ride  to  various  points 
of  interest. 

Bennett  had  made  some  sort  of  an  arrangement 
for  me  to  stop  with  him  to  share  the  compartment, 
and  to  follow  up  the  operations  in  company  with 
the  attaches.  Some  of  the  latter  gentlemen,  however, 
objected  to  be  kept  under  surveillance.  So  the  plan 
fell  through,  to  the  keen  disappointment  of  both 
Bennett  and  myself. 

There  was  confusion  worse  confounded  here,  if 
possible.  The  small  area  of  the  yard  was  crammed 
with  refugees ;  carriages,  waggons,  and  baggage  were 
dumped  out  on  the  metals,  anywhere  and  everywhere. 
The  engine  was  wanted  immediately. 

The  attaches  were  in  no  better  plight  than  our- 
selves. I  had  asked  the  English  attach^  earlier  in 
the  day  to  share  our  dinner,  hoping  to  give  him 
roast  fowls.  Salim  had  got  the  birds,  but  there  was 
no  fire  or  time  to  cook  them.  They  were  tied  in 
bundles,  and  spread  over  the  baggage.  What  their 
ultimate  fate  was  I  never  heard,  for  I  did  not  see 
them  again. 

Meantime  the  task  of  sorting  out  baggage  and 
getting  transport  to  the  town  was  a  rather  difficult 


THE   BOOM   OF   THE   GUNS  189 

one.  It  appeared  that  everything  on  wheels  was 
engaged  by  the  military.  Those  vehicles  that  could 
be  hired  at  exorbitant  rates  were  either  broken 
down,  or  the  animals  were  so  enfeebled  with  con- 
tinuous work  that  they  were  useless. 

The  servants  in  the  presence  of  this  turmoil 
simply  lost  their  heads,  and  stood  dumbly  smiling, 
apparently  not  understanding  what  was  being  said 
to  them.  The  officers,  smiling  and  polite,  were 
shouting  contrary  orders,  which  did  not  tend  to 
straighten  out  matters.  Some  of  them  were  as 
helpless  as  women.  But  this  was  largely  the  result 
of  their  kindness  of  heart,  and  of  their  disinclination 
to  hurt  anyone's  feelings.  The  "  gentleman "  came 
well  through  it  all. 

Several  trains  were  standing,  loaded  with  muni- 
tions of  war.  I  had  retired  for  a  brief  spell,  after 
carrying  kit  bags,  chairs,  and  tents,  and  shouting  at 
servants,  to  the  window  of  my  apartment.  I  looked 
out  on  a  confused  camp — the  usual  tangle  of  tents, 
pack-horses,  sick,  dying,  and  dead. 

The  valley  was  wide,  but  perhaps  for  the  sake  of 
the  picturesque  all  these  objects  were  jumbled  to- 
gether, with  waggons  threading  the  maze  with  won- 
derful accuracy.  There  always  seemed  to  be  room 
for  one  more.  There  were  the  usual  refugees,  whose 
men  folk,  wondrous  wise,  sat  or  reclined  smoking, 
and  giving  general  directions.  These  men  were  paid 
to  help  to  get  things  shipshape. 

The    river  was   spanned   by  an   ancient   Turkish 


I90    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

bridge,  which  just  admitted  one  vehicle  at  a  time.  On 
the  further  side  of  the  bridge  was  a  constantly  accumu- 
lating block,  fed  by  a  long  chain  of  carts  from  the 
main  road,  going  northwards — an  endless  stream  of 
fiigitives  going  towards  Tchorlu.  I  asked  a  German 
correspondent  to  direct  his  glass  towards  this  human 
flood.  It  looked  like  a  retreat,  but  he  assured  me  it 
was  nothing  of  the  kind.  It  consisted  of  waggons  full 
of  wounded,  and  empty  waggons  returning  for  supplies 
for  the  front. 

I  found  Salim  had  at  last  made  some  arrange- 
ments for  the  transport  of  the  baggage,  and  bestrid- 
ing my  pony  we  started  for  the  town  of  Tchorlu. 
By  this  time  the  evening  shadows  had  fallen  in  long 
streaks  across  the  road. 

There  was  a  confusion  of  traffic  to  and  from  the 
station ;  horsemen  were  dashing  here  and  there,  and 
everything  betokened  that  some  important  movement 
was  on  foot. 

The  town  of  Tchorlu  is  built  on  the  top  of  a 
rolling  ridge.  The  white  chalk  roads  and  tracks 
reminded  me  somewhat  of  the  downs  at  Brighton. 
We  entered  by  a  sort  of  toll-gate,  which  was  occupied 
by  a  picket  of  cavalry  ;  and  a  conspicuous  landmark 
was  the  tall  minaret  of  the  mosque  on  our  right. 
Gradually  the  straggling  houses  snuggled  together, 
and  we  soon  became  involved  in  an  apparently  end- 
less maze  of  small  narrow  streets. 

Threading  our  way  through  one  of  the  streets,  we 
came  to  the  square,  from  which  radiated  more  crooked 


THE    BOOM   OF   THE   GUNS  191 

streets.  The  square  itself  was  literally  packed  with 
humanity,  and  animals  standing  knee-deep  in  filth 
and  muck.  Pickets  threaded  their  way  through  the 
garbage  and  refuse  of  a  population  of  thousands  of 
refugees.  Originally  the  square  had  been  rudely  paved, 
but  now  the  road  was  covered  with  pools  of  water 
and  mud. 

There  were  a  few  dealers,  principally  Jews,  try- 
ing to  do  some  sort  of  trade.  The  buyers  were  mostly 
eager  and  hungry  ;  everybody  wanted  bread,  but  they 
could  not  get  it  for  love  or  money,  although  ordinary 
merchandise  could  be  had  for  the  taking.  Many 
of  the  shops  were  completely  gutted,  the  original 
owners  having  carried  away  as  much  of  their  stock 
as  they  could  conveniently  cope  with,  leaving  the 
rest  to  take  care  of  itself. 

The  doors  and  windows  of  the  shops  were  wide 
open ;  but  even  their  standing  invitation  to  enter 
was  not  generally  taken  advantage  of,  for  the  very 
simple  reason  that  there  was  no  means  of  getting 
the  plunder  out  of  the  town. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   PANIC 

Leaving  behind  us  this  almost  indescribable  scene  of 
confusion  and  filth,  we  plunged  through  a  narrow 
lane,  densely  packed  with  people  and  vehicles  of 
every  kind,  until  we  reached  the  headquarters,  where 
Vashki  Bey,  the  Press  Censor,  was  established  to 
advise  and  assist  us  if  required.  I  found  him  in  a 
state  of  some  excitement  and  anxiety ;  his  brood  of 
correspondents  had  scattered.  He  told  me  that  some 
of  the  English  correspondents  were  lost,  and  he  was 
afraid  they  had  been  killed.  This  made  me  rather 
concerned  as  to  the  fate  of  my  personal  friends. 

Vashki  Bey  very  kindly  billeted  me  in  the  house 
of  a  Turk,  in  company  with  Long,  an  American  corre- 
spondent, who  represented,  as  he  carelessly  put  it,  a 
string  of  newspapers  from  N'York  to  San  Fran-ces-co. 
I  found  him  a  very  agreeable  companion.  The 
house,  like  all  Turkish  dwellings,  was  scrupulously 
clean.  The  ground  floor,  hall,  and  kitchen  were  com- 
bined ;  the  cooking  was  done  over  a  brazier,  and 
ablutions  were  performed  at  the  common  tap. 

A  flight  of  stairs  led  us  to  our  floor,  which  com- 
prised three  rooms,  lightly  partitioned,  and  destitute 
of  either  picture  or  ornament.  A  broad  well-cushioned 
divan   stretched   from   one   wall  to  the  other.     The 


THE   PANIC  193 

windows  provided  a  general  view  of  the  street.  The 
upper  storey  projected  over  the  lower  one,  reminding 
me  of  descriptions  of  the  London  of  King  Charles's 
time.  The  back  windows  overlooked  the  mosque 
standing  in  a  cemetery. 

On  the  following  day  I  rode  out  towards  Liile 
Burgas,  guided  by  the  sound  of  heavy  firing.  I 
passed  a  portion  of  the  Turkish  army  in  full  retreat. 
It  was  an  orderly  retreat  compared  with  those  which 
I  had  witnessed  in  previous  campaigns  in  other  parts 
of  the  world. 

As  evening  fell  I  came  to  a  bridge  crossing  the 
Ergene,  which  was  crowded  with  refugees  and 
soldiers.  Here  the  ofl&cers  were  endeavouring  to 
arrest  the  retreat  by  beating  back  the  soldiers  with 
the  flat  of  their  sabres ;  their  object  perhaps  was  more 
to  relieve  the  pressure  on  the  narrow  bridge  than  to 
stop  the  panic. 

A  great  amount  of  confusion  was  naturally 
caused  by  the  concentration  of  such  crowds  at  this 
narrow  point,  and  it  soon  resulted  in  a  species  of 
pandemonium. 

In  the  more  open  space  beyond  the  bridge  were 
the  country  people  with  their  horses,  carts,  and 
waggons,  apparently  bent  on  reaching  places  of 
safety,  and  hampering  the  soldiers. 

It  was  a  heart-rending  spectacle.  Strong  men 
crying  from  utter  weariness ;  women  and  children 
struggling  through  the  deep  clinging  mire ;  waggons 
hopelessly    entangled   or   completely  wrecked,  added 


N 


194     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

to  the  hopeless  confusion  and  attempt  to  escape. 
This  mass  of  humanity  moved  without  order  or 
discipKne  towards  the  line  of  least  resistance.  Some 
refugees  vainly  attempted  to  stem  the  torrent  to 
regain  a  more  hopeful  track. 

The  road  was  now  a  veritable  slough  of  despond, 
only  distinguishable  from  the  black  oozy  fields  on 
either  side. 

An  extraordinary  combination  of  sounds  was 
created  by  the  plunge  of  thousands  of  feet  in  the 
clammy  clinging  morass  in  which  some  fell  to  rise 
no  more.  Pressed  onward  by  the  ever-gathering 
crowds  from  abandoned  villages  and  farms,  men, 
women  and  children  presented  the  appearance  of 
panting,  stricken  beasts,  with  wolfish  and  blood- 
shot eyes — they  had  almost  lost  the  semblance  of 
humanity. 

I  was  greatly  impressed  by  the  stoical  patience 
displayed  by  some  of  the  refugees.  A  sharp  cry  of 
pain  occasionally  penetrated  the  sobbing  gasps  of 
people  in  torment,  tired  to  death  yet  kept  mechani- 
cally moving,  and  urged  ever  onwards  by  the  press 
from  behind. 

I  saw  one  soldier  supported  by  two  comrades  on 
either  side,  who  did  not  discover  until  afterwards 
that  they  had  been  carrying  a  corpse.  Hastily  ex- 
cavating a  grave  by  the  wayside  they  placed  him 
therein  and  resumed  their  flight. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  more  than  a  slight  idea 
of  the  awful   scenes   witnessed   on    this    retreat.     A 


THE   PANIC  195 

redeeming  feature  in  it  was  the  entire  absence  of 
mutiny  or  violence. 

Mahomedan  and  Christian  were  knit  together  in 
the  common  bond  of  suffering.  At  least  a  third  of 
the  crowd  were  Christians.  The  way  in  which 
members  of  one  creed  helped  the  other  contradicts 
to  some  extent  the  theory  that  it  is  impossible  for 
people  of  two  religions  to  live  together  in  harmony. 

The  soldiers  of  Asia  apparently  did  not  resent  the 
Christian  refugees  of  Thrace  sharing  their  troubles 
and  lightening  each  other's  burdens  where  it  was 
possible  to  do  so.  Wearied  children  slept  peacefully 
in  the  arms  of  rough  soldiers.  A  half-dead  corporal 
found  a  temporary  resting-place  in  a  farmer's  buffalo 
waggon. 

On  that  terrible  march  there  were  many  good 
Samaritan  soldiers  assisting  the  old  and  helpless.  I 
pitied  the  women  more  than  the  men,  for  the  majority 
of  them  were  unveiled,  which  added  humiliation  and 
shame  to  the  torture  of  their  terrible  flight. 

Refugees  were  stimulated  by  the  roar  of  artillery 
to  extra  exertions,  only  to  fall  exhausted  in  the  mire. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  heavy  rains  the  in- 
significant streams,  several  of  which  had  to  be 
crossed,  could  have  been  easily  forded.  Now  the 
waters  roared  like  a  mountain  torrent  and  suro;ed 
against  the  bridge,  which  acted  like  a  dam,  flooding 
the  country  for  miles  on  either  side. 

I  marvelled  that  the  frail  bridge  stood  against 
the  flood.     As  the  human  torrent   flowed   onward   I 


196     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

watched  a  horse  and  rider  struggling  in  the  water, 
while  attempting  to  cross  to  the  other  side.  Nothing 
could  prevail  against  such  a  flood. 

Carried  away  by  the  crowd  of  refugees  it  was 
some  little  time  before  I  succeeded  in  extricating 
myself  and  returning  to  Tchorlu.  I  arrived  there 
wet  and  wearied,  only  too  glad  to  rest. 

All  that  night  a  ceaseless  stream  of  fugitives 
poured  into  the  town.  Every  house  was  filled  to 
overflowing,  and  the  streets  and  square  were  crowded 
with  soaking  people. 

The  morning  brought  no  relief.  The  rain  came 
down  like  a  deluge,  blown  by  a  hurricane  of  wind, 
whirling  about  flocks  of  scolding  jackdaws. 

The  Bulgarians  were  expected  to  follow  on  the 
heels  of  the  Turkish  army,  and  we  looked  for  their 
arrival  every  moment.  Neither  friend  nor  foe  would 
willingly  have  faced  the  havoc  of  such  a  storm, 
otherwise  the  correspondents  as  well  as  the  fugitives 
might  have  been  captured  by  the  victors  without  much 
difliculty. 


CHAPTER   IX 

AT   THE    HEADQUARTERS  OF    THE    COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 

A  HOPELESS  day  succeeded  an  anxious  night.  There 
were  many  sad-eyed,  weary  watchers.  Mothers  com- 
forted babies  in  the  soaked  and  shivering  crowds, 
who  were  compelled  to  camp  where  they  stood  in 
the  street. 

Among  them  all  no  one  cursed  the  rain,  for  it 
comes  from  God.  Whatever  the  present  sufferings, 
it  must  be  good.     Inshallah ! 

The  distant  goal  was  far  away  across  the  Golden 
Horn,  sunny  lands  in  the  beyond,  where  no  plun- 
dering, pillaging  Europe  would  ever  come  to  rob 
them  of  their  lands  and  their  God,  if  that  were 
possible. 

All  day,  and  every  day,  the  sorrowing,  heavily- 
laden  multitudes  crawled  in  bitter  travail,  but  never 
in  despair. 

Considering  that  the  number  of  persons  of  differ- 
ent creeds  and  nationalities — Christian  and  Maho- 
medan — toiled  and  suffered  side  by  side,  such  misery 
might  naturally  have  brought  evil  passions  to  the 
surface.  Human  nature  was  stripped  bare  and 
exposed. 

What  do  we  see  amongst  these  Turks  but  charity 

and  submission  to  the  will  of  Allah  ! 

197 


198     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

I  and  Long,  the  American  correspondent,  pre- 
pared a  breakfast  from  our  stores.  We  had  no 
bread,  but  we  had  plenty  of  biscuits.  Everything 
was  damp  and  uncomfortable — the  sort  of  a  morn- 
ing on  which  a  cheerful  fire  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary. We  missed  the  comfort  and  cosiness  of  our 
English  homes,  but  it  is  the  lot  of  the  war  cor- 
respondent to  meet  and  overcome  difficulties  and 
discomforts  while  campaigning. 

The  charcoal  brazier  converted  the  chill  atmos- 
phere of  our  room  into  a  warm  Scotch  mist. 

We  received  most  alarming  bulletins,  and  had 
they  been  true,  I  should  probably  not  have  had 
the  opportunity  of  writing  this  book.  But  on  this 
occasion,  as  on  many  others,  most  of  them  were 
fabrications,  and  it  was  necessary  to  digest  them 
with  a  large  grain  of  salt  and  to  discount  them 
considerably. 

The  wind  whirled  the  dead  leaves,  and  the  tem- 
pest lashed  the  windows.  There  was  not  a  break 
in  the  universal  blackness  of  the  sky. 

I  wrapped  myself  in  oilskins,  and  started  for 
Vashki  Bey.  He  and  his  staff  were  not  in  their 
quarters,  but  I  found  Salim,  who  had  just  emerged 
from  a  doorway  with  a  formidable  key  in  his  hand. 

Sir  Bryan  Leighton  and  Ashmead-Bartlett  were 
in  the  town.  They  had  arrived  nearly  exhausted 
from  Liile  Burgas,  where  they  had  been  in  the  thick 
of  the  fighting  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning. 

Salim  had  been  feeding  the   horses  and  locking 


AT   THE   HEADQUARTERS  199 

them  up  to  keep  them  safe.  There  were,  of  course, 
a  great  number  of  residents  of  the  town  who  would 
have  "borrowed"  your  horse  and  thought  no  great 
harm  of  it.  It  was  not  the  soldiers  and  the  refugees 
we  had  to  guard  against  in  this  respect,  but  the 
townsmen,  who  preferred  to  ride  rather  than  walk 
if  they  could  obtain  a  mount  for  nothing.  It  was 
owing  to  the  precautions  taken  that  none  of  the 
horses  were  actually  stolen  in  Tchorlu. 

While  Leighton  was  at  breakfast  he  told  his 
experiences  on  the  battlefield.  They  were  somewhat 
similar  to  my  own,  but  he  had  the  good  fortune  to 
see  more  of  the  actual  fighting  than  I  had. 

He  succeeded  in  getting  to  the  village  of  Kari- 
stan,  the  headquarters  of  Abdullah  Pasha,  who,  by 
the  way,  had  not  had  any  food  for  twenty-four  hours. 
Sir  Bryan,  who  is  an  excellent  cook,  provided  the 
General  with  a  substantial  meal.  This  will  illustrate 
the  fact  that  the  sufferings  of  hunger  were  not  only 
borne  by  the  men,  but  also  by  the  officers,  including 
the  Commander-in-Chief. 

It  is  one  of  the  merits  of  the  Turkish  officers 
that  in  times  of  need  they  will  give  to  others  and 
cheerfully  go  without  themselves — their  hospitality 
is  unbounded.  Under  such  conditions  as  those  I 
have  described,  such  a  self-sacrificing  action  becomes 
a  virtue. 

The  General  who  suffers  with  his  men  is  worthy 
of  the  highest  encomiums.  The  fine  behaviour  of 
all    the    officers    in   this    most    trying    circumstance 


200     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

established  them  as  being  without  fear  and  without 
reproach. 

Their  good  qualities  as  well  as  their  bad  ones 
are  inherited,  and  they  have  been  unchanged  for 
generations.  Nations  can  only  evolve  and  develop 
slowly,  and  the  Turks  have  had  no  chance.  Their 
generous  faith  and  belief  in  the  good  in  human  nature 
has  helped  to  bring  about  the  present  state  of  affairs. 
In  the  circle  in  which  this  campaign  was  con- 
ducted, descriptions  of  the  fighting  are  bound  to 
be  limited,  owing  to  the  extent  of  the  fighting  line 
and  the  range  of  modern  guns :  both  sides  blaze 
away  seemingly  at  nothing.  The  Turkish  artillery 
(Krupps)  was  always  outranged  by  the  enemy's 
guns  (Creusots). 

Had  it  been  possible  to  feed  the  soldiers,  the 
campaign  might  have  ended  better  for  the  Turks. 
But  the  best  soldiers  must  eat.  I  attribute  the 
whole  of  their  misfortunes  to  the  break-down  of  the 
commissariat. 

The  panic  has  been  described  in  certain  quarters 
as  incomprehensible.  To  me  it  seems  quite  natural 
that  famished  soldiers,  holding  the  lines  at  Kirk 
Kilisse  and  at  Liile  Burgas,  should  be  unable  to 
bear  the  hunger  strain  any  longer.  They  returned 
to  the  camps  in  search  of  food,  thus  creating  the 
general  impression,  to  both  friends  and  foe,  that  they 
were  retreating.  It  was  another  illustration  of  the 
feict  that  an  army  fights  on  its  stomach. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE   BATTLE  OF   LtlLE   BURGAS 

I  WADED  through  mire  and  water  to  the  Bureau  of 
Vashki  Bey.  I  found  him  and  his  staff  in  a  terribly- 
worried  state,  for  the  reason  that  several  of  the 
correspondents  were  still  missing. 

The  German  and  Austrian  journalists  were  there, 
adding  to  his  troubles  by  arguing  about  the  word- 
ing of  their  telegrams.  My  interview  was  short.  I 
showed  him  my  drawings  for  the  Illustrated  London 
News,  which  he  passed  without  comment. 

To  send  the  letter  by  mail  was  the  next  difficulty. 
The  postmaster  of  Tchorlu  had  departed  a  long  time 
previously  for  Stamboul.  However,  Vashki  Bey 
promised  he  would  see  that  it  was  sent  ofi.  There- 
upon I  handed  the  red  envelope,  in  which  were 
enclosed  at  least  a  dozen  of  my  sketches  for  the 
Illustrated  London  News,  to  one  of  his  aides-de-camp 
— not  however  without  some  slight  misgivings  on  my 
part,  which  afterwards  proved  to  be  well  founded. 

Everything  was  then  in  such  a  state  of  chaos  and 
confusion  that  I  do  not  blame  the  Turkish  officials  for 
their  loss.  I  afterwards  learned,  to  my  great  regret, 
that  the  sketches  never  reached  their  destination. 
Having  made  the  necessary  arrangements  for  my  mail, 
I  paid  a  visit  to  some  of  my  confreres  who  lodged 


202     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

over  the  shop  of  Demetrius,  a  Greek  butcher — the 
only  butcher  left  in  the  town.  He  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  the  Bulgarians  because  of  his  nationality 
and  sympathies,  which  were  entirely  with  the  Allies. 

Nearly  all  the  business  in  the  Turkish  towns 
was  done  by  either  Armenians  or  Greeks,  and  when 
the  Bulgarians  advanced  and  took  these  towns  the 
Greeks  and  Armenians  were  unmolested.  This 
accounted  for  the  composure  of  so  many  of  the 
townspeople. 

After  much  fruitless  wandering  I  at  last  found 
the  house  with  the  blue  door  for  which  I  was  seeking, 
opposite  the  only  caf^  which  had  not  been  deserted. 
The  door  was  barred  and  bolted,  but  after  much 
furious  knocking  some  one  condescended  to  open  it. 

The  ostler's  room  was  entered  by  a  flimsy  door 
hanging  by  one  hinge.  It  was  dimly  lighted  by  two  low 
windows.  The  divan,  as  is  usual  in  Turkish  rooms, 
filled  up  the  space  under  the  windows,  reaching  from 
one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other.  It  looked  cosy, 
and  under  different  circumstances  it  might  have  been 
very  comfortable.  But  now  tiny  rivulets  of  water 
poured  in  through  the  broken  windows,  saturating 
both  couch  and  cushions. 

After  a  warm  and  noisy  welcome,  I  selected  the 
driest  part  of  the  divan  to  sit  upon.  In  the  middle 
of  the  room  stood  a  round  table  littered  with  evi- 
dences of  the  craft— papers,  ink-bottles,  string,  &c. 

A  group  of  guests  leaned  over  this  rickety  piece 
of  furniture,  consulting  the  map  of  Thrace.     A  litter 


THE   BATTLE    OF   EULE    BURGAS     203 

of  saddlery,  sleeping  gear,  and  camp-beds,  together 
with  cooking  utensils  and  a  store  box  covered  all  the 
available  space.  On  the  walls  hung  accoutrements, 
revolvers,  and  equipment. 

When  I  entered  the  room  a  heated  argument  was 
going  on  with  regard  to  recent  events  and  the  topog- 
raphy of  the  country,  Alan  Ostler,  of  the  Daily 
Express,  like  Napoleon,  was  demonstrating  how  to 
solve  some  difficult  problem,  meekly  listened  to  by 
Pilcher  of  the  Morning  Post  and  another  corre- 
spondent, while  Ward  Price  of  the  Daily  Mail  stood 
slightly  in  the  background  studying  this  interesting 
group. 

Price  wears  a  monocle,  which  effectually  screens 
his  thoughts — no  doubt  at  the  moment  he  was  evolv- 
ing some  plan  for  circumventing  circumstances  and 
making  a  coup,  which  actually  came  off  later.  The 
arrival  of  the  tea  interval  turned  the  conversation  to 
the  difficult  question  of  how  to  save  their  impedimenta. 
Of  transport  there  was  none,  excepting  the  worn- 
out  packhorses,  which  were  now  almost  worth  their 
weight  in  silver.  Very  few  of  them  could  be  got 
even  at  that  exorbitant  price. 

I  was  offered  heaps  of  stores  at  about  100  per 
cent,  discount.  For  instance,  a  case  of  brandy  con- 
taining one  dozen  bottles  sold  for  ten  shillings. 
Heavy  stores  were  a  drug  in  the  market. 

The  supposed  rate  of  the  Bulgarian  advance  left 
no  time  to  make  proper  arrangements  for  their  trans- 
portation.    All  we  could  do  was  to  make  good  use  of 


204     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  delicacies  for  tea.  We  had  fate  defoie  gras  and 
Stilton  cheese,  jam,  marmalade,  potted  shrimps  with 
every  kind  of  biscuit,  and  a  plum-pudding  which  had 
been  bought  for  use  at  Christmas.  The  meal  was 
washed  down  with  tea  and  old  cognac. 

Angus  Hamilton  of  the  Central  News  invited  me 
to  a  farewell  dinner  to  help  to  dispose  of  some  of  his 
luxuries. 

Returning  to  my  own  quarters,  soaked  to  the  skin 
by  the  incessant  rain,  my  landlord  {pro  tern.)  made  me 
a  brew  of  excellent  coifee.  At  seven  o'clock,  with  the 
assistance  of  a  guide  and  a  lantern,  I  started  to  find 
Hamilton's  place,  a  much  more  difficult  problem  than 
in  the  daytime.  I  eventually  found  the  right  house 
after  stumbling  about  alleys,  and,  the  door  being 
open,  I  blundered  into  a  very  dark  passage.  My 
guide  steered  me  up  a  tortuous  staircase  that  sud- 
denly brought  me  into  the  general  living  apartment, 
which  with  its  deep  rich  brown  tones  would  have  pro- 
vided Teniers  with  fascinating  interior  subjects.  The 
room  was  filled  with  a  motley  crowd  of  the  special 
correspondents  of  the  London  journals.  They  were 
busily  engaged  in  various  ways,  some  of  them  cook- 
ing or  washing ;  others  were  writing  by  the  dim 
uncertain  light  of  several  candles,  fixed  to  various 
pieces  of  furniture  and  provision  boxes  by  the  simple 
process  of  melting  one  end  and  letting  the  grease 
stick. 

A  dimly  lighted  lamp  hung  low,  suspended  from 
the    smoke -blackened    beams,    which    threw   a    rich 


THE   BATTLE   OF   LULE   BURGAS     205 

mellow  light  over  the  scene.  My  host  stepped 
forward  to  greet  me.  The  light  of  the  lamp,  as  he 
stood  in  front  of  it,  framed  his  shapely  head  in  a 
nimbus  of  soft  rays,  somewhat  reminding  me  of  a 
picture  of  a  mediaeval  knight.  The  whole  scene  and 
setting  was  that  of  a  band  of  conspirators,  the  picture 
being  woven  together  by  the  spiral  threads  of  blue 
smoke  from  their  cigarettes. 

Preparations  for  dinner  were  in  progress.  Over 
a  kerosene  stove  the  soup-kettle  simmered,  giving 
forth  odours  in  which  I  detected  the  savoury  smell 
of  Bovril.  A  small  round  table  set  with  every  variety 
of  tin-ware  mugs,  bickers,  enamelled  cups,  and  even 
glass  adorned  the  festive  board.  The  centre  of  the 
table  was  piled  with  potted  luxuries.  The  developing 
apparatus  of  a  young  photographic  artist,  who  was 
busy  drying  his  films  in  the  adjoining  ante-room, 
occupied  a  portion  of  the  table.  From  out  of  the 
dim  recess  of  the  ante-room,  which  was  used  as  a 
sleeping-room,  emerged  a  fine  young  fellow  who 
appeared  to  be  a  Turk,  but  who  proved  to  be  an 
Englishman  named  Frank  Beevor. 

In  the  course  of  a  conversation  he  told  me  that 
he  was  not  a  correspondent,  but  a  cavalry  officer. 
In  a  spirit  of  adventure,  and  with  a  desire  to  extend 
his  military  experience,  he  had  penetrated  the  country 
and  worked  his  way  to  the  front  in  a  most  daring 
and  sportsmanlike  manner. 

He  had  evidently  seen  a  good  deal  of  the 
fighting,   and   he   generously   placed   some    very   in- 


2o6     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

teresting  information  with  regard  to  it  at  my  dis- 
posal. He  had  just  returned  from  the  battle  of 
Liile  Burgas,  where  he  and  some  of  the  correspon- 
dents had  very  nearly  been  blown  to  pieces  by  a 
bursting  shell. 

His  description  of  the  fighting  is  illustrated  by 
the  chart  which  is  given  at  p.  201. 

Keaching  the  village  of  Karistan  on  29th  October, 
when  the  battle  had  just  commenced,  he  found  that 
the  Commander-in-Chief  (Abdullah  Pasha)  and  his 
staff  had  proceeded  to  a  small  conical  hill  resembling 
a  tumulus.  He  went  with  the  correspondents  to  this 
spot,  where  the  General  was  directing  the  operations 
of  his  army. 

At  that  time  the  position  of  the  opposing  forces 
(roughly  described)  was  that  the  Turkish  left  rested 
on  the  railway  close  to  Liile  Burgas,  and  the  fighting 
line  extended  generally  north-east  towards  Kirk 
Kilisse.  The  Turkish  guns  covered  the  town  of  Liile 
Burgas.  They  had  been  placed  on  a  high  ridge 
about  two  or  three  thousand  yards  from  the  conical 
hill,  and  they  commanded  the  approach  to  the  rail- 
way, which  here  curved  through  a  valley  running 
in  the  direction  of  Adrianople. 

The  Bulgarian  army,  advancing  from  the  north, 
occupied  the  long  ridge  of  hills  on  the  other  side 
of  Liile  Burgas,  and  tried  to  make  an  enveloping 
movement. 

Their  guns  were  directed  upon  the  town  and  upon 
the  Turkish  positions.     Their  shrapnel  burst  too  high, 


THE    BATTLE   OF   LULE   BURGAS     207 

but  was  so  numerous  that  it  presented  the  appearance 
of  a  flock  of  starlings.  The  common  shell  generally- 
fell  short. 

The  batteries  which  proved  most  destructive  to 
the  Turks  were  well  placed  on  some  high  hills  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  dividing  valley,  and  were 
so  well  masked  that  they  could  maul  the  Turkish 
left,  causing  numerous  casualties  among  the  infantry 
and  forcing  their  retirement. 

The  Turkish  artillery  which  had  been  covering 
the  town  were  disabled  by  the  accurate  fire  of  the 
Bulgarians,  some  of  whose  shells  destroyed  the 
Turkish  ammunition  and  also  set  fire  to  the  town 
in  several  places. 

After  the  fighting  had  lasted  more  than  two 
days,  the  Bulgarian  artillery  made  a  decided  im- 
pression upon  the  Turkish  positions. 

Late  on  30th  October  it  had  become  evident  that 
both  flanks  of  the  Turkish  army  had  been  turned 
by  the  Bulgarians,  and  the  Turks  began  to  fall  back 
upon  their  supports. 

About  midday  on  31st  October  it  was  observed 
that  the  General  and  his  stafl"  had  left  the  hill,  for 
the  reason  that  the  Bulgarian  gunners  had  found 
the  range  and  were  directing  a  tremendous  fire 
upon  it. 

At  two  o'clock  on  31st  October  the  general  order 
for  the  retreat  of  the  Turkish  troops  was  given.  The 
centre  retired  in  open  order,  while  the  left  retreated 
in  a  more  scattered  manner,  but  with  deliberation. 


2o8     TWO  YEAES  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Many  of  the  soldiers  were  wandering  about,  appar- 
ently without  definite  instructions.  This  was  doubt- 
less due  to  the  fact  that  there  had  been  serious 
casualties  among  their  officers,  and  to  the  presence 
of  a  large  proportion  of  untrained  and  underfed 
Kedifs. 

The  Bulgarians'  advanced  line  occupied  the  rail- 
way station,  and  some  of  their  cavalry  rode  up  the 
valley,  but  were  compelled  to  turn  back  by  the  heavy 
fire  of  a  Turkish  battery  stationed  on  the  hill  to  the 
left  of  the  village  of  Karistan. 

These  guns,  with  the  cavalry,  had  been  charged 
with  the  task  of  covering  the  retreat  and  with  fight- 
ing a  rearguard  action,  which  was  not  required  as  the 
Bulgarians  were  too  exhausted  to  finish  the  pursuit. 
This  gave  the  Turks  the  opportunity  of  rallying  at 
Tchorlu. 

Then  came  the  deluge.  It  was  a  case  of  "  sauve 
qui  pent."  It  rained  and  rained.  For  days  after  the 
battle  more  wretched  weather  could  not  have  been 
experienced.  There  was  never  a  break  or  a  gleam 
in  the  sullen,  swollen,  over-charged  clouds.  All  mili- 
tary operations  had  to  be  suspended,  waggon-trains 
of  bread  or  supplies  were  compelled  to  remain  where 
they  were. 

The  mud  of  Thrace  was  as  voracious  as  the  Good- 
win Sands,  and  the  general  spectacle  presented  was 
one  worthy  of  being  depicted  by  Edgar  Allan  Poe. 

The  announcement  of  dinner  put  a  stop  to  Beevor's 
thrilling  narrative  for  the  time.     We  were  quite  a 


THE    BATTLE   OF    LULE   BURGAS     209 

jolly  party.  The  round  table  accommodated  every- 
body, and  the  banquet  was  a  great  success  ;  but  with 
loins  girded,  danger  gave  a  spice  of  piquancy  to  the 
dishes.  After  dinner  toasts  were  drunk,  songs  were 
given,  and  at  least  one  party  in  Tchorlu  spent  a 
pleasant  evening. 


CHAPTER  XI 

WITH  THE  REMNANTS  OF  AN  ARMY 

On  the  day  following  the  retreat  from  Liile  Burgas 
I  began  to  review  my  position  and  to  arrange  for  my 
future  movements.  I  had  a  very  difficult  problem  to 
solve,  for  I  had  no  means  of  transporting  my  im- 
pedimenta or  even  myself. 

Calling  upon  the  Press  Censor,  Vashki  Bey  gave 
me  orders  to  be  ready  to  proceed  with  him  and  the 
other  correspondents,  with  our  belongings,  to  Tcher- 
kesh  Keui,  where  it  was  expected  we  should  get  a 
train  to  convey  us  to  Tchatalja.  If  the  Bulgarians' 
advance  was  too  rapid  to  permit  of  this  arrangement 
being  carried  out,  the  Bey  had  the  alternative  plan 
of  taking  us  to  Media,  a  port  on  the  Black  Sea,  and 
of  sending  us  thence  by  boat  to  Constantinople. 

Arriving  at  the  rendezvous  the  next  morning  I 
explained  that  I  had  no  means  of  transport  for  my 
baggage  or  myself,  and  asked  Vashki  Bey  if  he  could 
help  me.  He  regretted  that  it  was  impossible  to 
do  so. 

I  was  the  only  correspondent  in  the  whole  of 
Tchorlu  who  was  thus  stranded,  and  my  position  was 
hardly  enviable.  That  I  should  be  captured  I  felt 
certain,  but  I  did  not  think  I  should  be  in  personal 
danger,  unless  a  soldier  in  an  excess  of  zeal  should 


WITH  THE  REMNANTS  OF  AN  ARMY     211 

send  a  bullet  through  my  fez,  which  I  had  worn 
throughout  as  a  means  of  identification  and  protec- 
tion against  mishaps. 

Some  of  the  townsmen  might  have  desired  to 
show  their  sympathy  with  the  victorious  army,  whose 
arrival  was  expected  now  at  any  moment. 

The  town  was  completely  in  the  hands  of  the  mob. 
The  last  of  the  Turkish  soldiers,  with  a  company  of 
Maxims,  were  detailed  to  hold  the  enemy  in  check 
for  a  few  hours  to  give  the  main  body  a  little  more 
time  to  rally  at  Tchatalja. 

As  I  was  passing  through  the  market  square, 
wondering  how  I  was  to  extricate  myself  from  my 
difficulties,  I  was  hailed  by  a  young  officer  who  had 
been  with  me  in  Tripoli,  and  who  came  galloping  by 
with  his  orderly.  On  seeing  me  he  stopped,  and  after 
our  first  greetings  I  told  him  my  trouble.  He  said, 
"  I'll  get  you  a  horse."  The  orderly  rode  off,  and  re- 
turned in  half  an  hour  with  a  venerable  cream-coloured 
brute.  Salim  took  the  precaution  of  locking  up  my 
new  steed  with  Leighton's,  and  together  we  per- 
ambulated the  town  in  search  of  a  waggon.  I  was 
offered  a  vehicle  of  that  kind  and  a  miserable  pair 
of  donkeys,  but  these  animals  were  so  tired  that 
they  were  incapable  of  moving  the  empty  waggon. 
I  was  asked  thirty  pounds  for  them,  and  as  we 
might  not  have  been  able  to  find  anything  better 
I  gave  the  man  a  sovereign,  in  the  event  of  my  not 
concluding  the  deal. 

We    spent    another    couple    of    hours    splashing 


212     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

about  the  puddled  streets,  after  the  rain  had  ceased 
and  the  sun  was  shining,  in  searching  for  a  buffalo 
waggon  which  would  suit  us. 

On  the  very  outskirts  of  the  town  we  overtook 
one  that  was  being  taken  to  the  railway  station  in 
the  hope  of  securing  a  load  of  spoil,  for  there  was  no- 
body there  in  a  position  to  protect  property  of  any 
kind.  All  the  rolling-stock  was  at  the  Tcherkesh 
Keui. 

After  persuading  and  negotiating  with  the  owner, 
we  induced  him  to  let  us  have  the  outfit,  and  brought 
it  in  triumph  to  Leighton's  house,  where  there  was 
much  rejoicing. 

All  the  baggage  was  being  stowed  on  the  rickety 
ox  waggon,  when  a  report  reached  the  town  to  the 
effect  that  the  Bulgarians  were  only  a  mile  away,  and 
would  take  possession  of  it  towards  sunset.  This  had 
such  an  effect  on  the  nerves  of  the  owner  that  he 
offered  to  sell  the  outfit  for  anything  that  we  chose  to 
give  him,  but  he  would  not  stop  or  drive  it  himself. 
Salim  paid  him  a  ridiculously  small  sum  for  it,  and 
off  he  went. 

We  were  then  ready  to  start,  but  we  could  not  do 
so  because  no  one  could  drive  the  buffaloes.  The  difii- 
culty  caused  by  this  new  development  threatened  to  put 
a  stop  to  our  progress,  when  Salim  came  to  the  fore 
again.  In  some  mysterious  way  he  had  heard  of  two 
men  who  were  anxious  to  get  to  Tcherkesh  Keui.  With 
them  he  made  a  bargain  to  drive  the  waggons  there 
— which  was,  in  fact,  all  we  wanted  fi:om  them,  as  we 


WITH  THE  REMNANTS  OF  AN  ARMY     213 

understood  the  line  was  still  open,  and  that  trains 
were  running.  We  started  a  gay  cavalcade.  Sir 
Bryan  led  the  procession,  mounted  on  a  beautiful  white 
Arab,  Gordon  the  operator  acting  as  aide-de-camp. 
Old  Salim  rode  a  small  vicious  pony,  with  his  thin 
legs  dangling  almost  to  the  ground. 

I  superintended  the  waggon,  on  which  fluttered 
the  Union  Jack.  My  pack-horse  came  in  tow.  I  had 
a  certain  misgiving  as  to  the  stability  of  the  vehicle. 
The  wheels  were  wobbly,  and  looked  as  if  they  would 
collapse  at  any  moment.  Our  buffaloes,  although  tired, 
had  plenty  of  energy,  and  we  proceeded  at  the  rate  of 
quite  one  mile  an  hour. 

The  mud  in  places  looked  so  bad  that  I  had  great 
doubt  of  our  being  able  to  accomplish  the  journey  of 
some  twelve  or  fifteen  miles.  Under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances we  should  have  arrived  at  our  destination 
by  sunset  of  the  following  day. 

We  passed  the  Maxim  battery  just  outside  the 
town,  and  my  friend  the  young  Bey,  who  was  in  com- 
mand, wished  me  to  take  the  road  to  Silivri,  on  the 
Sea  of  Marmora,  where,  he  said,  "  we  are  going  to 
make  a  stand,  and  you  will  see  some  fighting." 
Of  this  we  had  great  doubts,  as  Silivri  is  only  a 
few  miles  by  sea  from  Stamboul.  We  had  judged 
correctly,  as  it  proved  that  the  place  would  be 
surrendered. 

We  proceeded  to  Tcherkesh  Keui.  There  was 
no  difficulty  in  finding  the  road,  which  was  thronged 
with    refugees   and   war-worn    soldiers.      We    crept 


214     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

on   at   a    funeral   pace,   the   poor   cattle  keeping  ^up 
bravely. 

Cavalry  detachments  passed  us  on  every  side, 
and  evidence  of  the  character  of  the  terrible  drama 
that  was  being  enacted  was  provided  by  the  derelict 
waggons  with  broken  wheels.  These  abandoned 
vehicles  provided  hiel  for  the  camp  fires.  I  noticed  a 
wheel,  the  hub  of  which  had  been  converted  into  a 
heap  of  ashes,  while  the  spokes  were  still  smouldering. 
There  were  many  of  these  wheel  fires,  and  the  solid 
hub  of  one  waggon  being  still  alight,  provided  us  with 
an  excellent  fire  with  which  to  boil  the  water  in  our 
kettle. 

We  had  completed  a  distance  of  only  five  miles 
when  we  found  that  our  animals  were  in  such  a 
distressed  condition  that  we  were  forced  to  camp  for 
the  night.  The  poor  beasts  could  go  no  further,  and 
one  of  them  was  trembling  violently. 

A  farm-house,  which  stood  in  a  grove  of  trees 
right  ahead  of  us,  gave  promise  of  a  supply  of  water 
and  fuel.  Camp  fires  twinkled  round  the  yard. 
We  unloaded  the  tent  bedding  and  boxes,  and 
while  we  were  erecting  the  tent  we  sent  Salim  ahead 
to  spy  out  the  land,  to  take  the  buffaloes  to  feed, 
and  to  find  shelter  from  the  icy  blasts  which  crept 
over  the  high  ground  after  nightfall.  He  returned 
soon  afterwards  with  the  information  that  the  farm- 
house was  in  the  possession  of  the  soldiers,  and  that 
the  Red  Crescent  was  established  there. 

The  horses  and  cattle  were   turned  loose  in  the 


WITH  THE  REMNANTS  OF  AN  ARMY    215 

big  barns  where  they  stood  back  deep  in  forage, 
which  suppHed  them  with  the  food  and  warmth  of 
which  they  were  in  so  much  need,  and  which  they 
had  richly  earned  by  their  exertions.  Hundreds  of 
tons  of  chaff  and  straw  littered  the  place  in  which 
the  soldiers  had  bivouacked. 

With  the  aid  of  water  and  wood  which  Salim 
had  obtained  we  soon  had  some  food  cooking,  and 
were  enabled  to  dine  royally.  Three  of  us  slept 
in  Sir  Bryan's  ample  tent. 

The  following  morning  we  made  a  fairly  early 
start,  after  partaking  of  a  breakfast  in  which  the 
underdone  porridge  was  not  very  palatable.  Every- 
thing was  wet  with  the  heavy  night  dew,  and 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  we  had  provided 
ourselves  with  plenty  of  bedding,  we  were  chilled 
to  the  marrow,  for  the  fire  could  not  be  persuaded 
to  burn. 

The  day  was  bright  and  cloudless,  and  the  roads, 
under  the  action  of  wind  and  sun,  were  drying 
nicely,  with  the  exception  of  the  mud  holes. 

The  town  of  Tchorlu  with  its  minarets  and  quaint 
windmills  looked  peaceful  and  quiet.  Our  animals 
had  benefited  to  such  an  extent  by  their  plentiful 
feed  and  rest  that  they  had  recovered  some  of  their 
spirit.  This  they  proved  by  indulging  in  a  kicking 
match,  thus  playing  havoc  in  the  camp.  One  of 
the  buffaloes  was  evidently  very  sick,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  yoke  the  poor  patient  brute. 

The  staying   powers    of  these  animals  are   truly 


2i6     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

remarkable.  I  could  not  understand  how  they 
managed  to  drag  the  heavily-loaded  waggons  through 
the  mud  holes.  In  my  opinion  we  ought  to  have 
had  at  least  six  to  do  the  work. 

The  march  that  day  was  slower  and  more  painful 
even  than  that  of  the  previous  one.  At  noon  we 
made  a  halt  close  to  a  shallow  dam  where  many 
soldiers  were  resting.  Some  of  them  were  drinking 
water,  others  were  washing  their  clothes,  whilst 
many  lay  on  the  banks  in  the  luxury  of  a  deep 
refreshing  sleep,  warmed  by  the  rays  of  the  noonday 
sun.  It  was  a  hopeful  scene  of  tranquillity  and  a 
haven  of  rest  after  the  awful  experiences  of  the  last 
few  days. 

During  the  day  we  saw  many  footsore  and 
weary  groups  resting  by  the  roadside.  All  cares  had 
been  forgotten  in  that  refreshing  bath  of  brilliant 
warmth  and  sunshine.  They  had  eaten  little,  it  is 
true,  but  the  edge  of  their  hunger  and  suffering  had 
been  blunted.  At  Tcherkesh  Keui  they  believed 
there  would  be  an  abundance  of  food,  and  with  this 
hope  to  inspire  them  they  trudged  courageously 
onwards. 

There  was  a  big  tobacco  farm  standing  at  the 
cross-roads,  one  of  which  leads  to  the  railway  and 
the  other  to  the  sea  at  Silivri.  This  farm  was  held 
by  a  regiment  of  infantry  with  some  Maxims.  There 
was  also  a  plentiful  supply  of  bread,  or  rather  flour. 
The  men  were  busily  engaged  in  making  it  into 
broad    flat    cakes    which    they    baked    on    sheets    of 


WITH  THE  REMNANTS  OF  AN  ARMY     217 

corrugated  iron.  Sheep,  goats,  cattle  and  poultry- 
were  scattered  about,  and  rows  of  maize  hung  outside 
the  house  to  dry  in  the  sun.  It  speaks  volumes  for 
the  morale  of  the  army  that  many  thousands  of 
starving  men  had  passed  by  such  tempting  fare 
without    helping    themselves. 


CHAPTER  XII 

FROM   BLACK  DESPAIR   TO   DAWNING   HOPE 

Cavalry  pack-horses  came  along  singly,  or  in  twos 
or  threes ;  a  train  of  pack -mules  followed  with  a 
number  of  rifles  which  had  been  taken  from  the 
dead  soldiers.  All  these  incidents  testify  to  the 
fact  that  the  so-called  panic  had  been  much  exag- 
gerated. It  might  be,  and  it  was,  a  scene  of  terrible 
confusion,  but  the  troops  were  not  demoralised.  I 
took  some  photographs  here,  which  were  unfortu- 
nately lost. 

When  we  continued  our  route  we  took  with  us 
some  forage  for  the  animals.  Our  way  lay  over  a 
bleak  upland,  and  a  cutting  wind  compelled  us  to 
stop  at  about  three  o'clock.  Some  correspondents 
who  were  riding  out  with  the  object  of  securing 
material  for  despatches  to  their  newspapers  came 
upon  the  scene,  and  I  opened  a  bottle  of  red  wine 
for  them.  We  toasted  each  other  ;  they  blessed  me, 
and  proceeding  on  their  way  I  saw  them  no  more. 
They  were  bound  for  Silivri. 

As  one  of  our  buffaloes  could  not  move  another 
foot  we  found  ourselves  in  a  somewhat  unpleasant 
dilemma.  Tcherkesh  Keui  was  only  six  miles  away, 
and  yet  we  were  unable  to  reach  it.  To  make  matters 
worse  our  drivers  mutinied,  and  told  us  all  sorts  of 

ai8 


FROM  DESPAIR  TO  DAWNING  HOPE    219 

blood-curdling  tales  about  highway  robbers,  and  we 
were  quite  unable  to  induce  them  to  stop  with  us 
even  when  we  refused  to  give  them  backsheesh. 
We  were  not,  however,  daunted  by  their  desertion, 
and  Leighton  proved  to  be  one  of  the  most  wonder- 
ful campaigners  I  have  ever  met. 

We  erected  bell  tents  and  piled  up  all  our 
packages  in  such  a  way  as  to  act  as  a  wind-screen. 
The  petrol  stove  was  lighted,  and  bacon  and  sausages 
were  soon'  frizzling  over  it.  It  will  thus  be  seen 
that  our  troubles  did  not  have  the  effect  of  spoiling 
our  appetites.  We  fed  the  buffaloes,  and  having 
left  them  to  look  after  themselves,  tied  our  horses 
to  the  waggon.  The  cold  was  Siberian.  A  wan- 
dering soldier  was  induced  to  stop  with  us.  We 
fed  him  and  gave  him  coffee,  on  the  condition  that 
he  would  help  us  to  drive  the  horses  and  the  wag- 
gons on  the  following  day.  He  shared  the  small 
tent  with  Salim,  and  on  the  whole  the  arrangement 
proved  to  be  a  satisfactory  one.  Our  late  drivers' 
hints  about  night  marauders  were  not  altogether 
ignored  by  us,  for  we  slept  under  arms.  Towards 
dawn  the  cold  was  so  intense  that  it  woke  me  up, 
and  I  heard  a  commotion  amongst  the  horses.  I 
went  to  them  just  in  time  to  catch  my  pack-horse, 
which  had  broken  loose,  and  was  about  to  make 
off.  I  brought  him  back,  and  then  went  round  to 
look  for  the  buffaloes.  I  found  the  poor  beasts  lying 
down  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  away.  I  petted 
them,  but    they   resented    it.     I    felt    anxious  about 


220     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  delicate  buffalo,  as  he  was  shivering  from  the 
cold  and  trembling  from  fatigue. 

As  there  were  still  some  hours  before  daylight, 
I  turned  in  once  more ;  but  Salim  was  very  noisy, 
and  his  shouting  woke  me  up  completely.  When 
I  asked  him  the  cause  of  all  this  hubbub,  he  said 
he  was  trying  to  drive  away  a  white  bullock,  which 
was  endeavouring  to  get  at  a  few  straws  of  forage 
left  by  our  animals.  I  stopped  his  shouting  and 
claimed  the  beast. 

"  But,"  said  Salim,  "  he  belong  to  the  Sultan." 

I  persisted  in  claiming  the  animal,  and  it  was 
fortunate  for  us  that  I  did  so,  for  our  sick  buffalo 
could  scarcely  stand. 

I  discussed  with  Leighton  the  question  whether 
we  should  push  on  to  Silivri,  which  was  fifteen  miles 
distant,  hire  a  small  craft,  store  all  our  belongings, 
and  go  by  sea  to  Stamboul.  This  plan  appealed 
to  me  very  strongly,  although  Tcherkesh  Keui  was 
only  six  miles  away.  The  railway  was  there,  but 
the  Bulgarian  cavalry  were  working  in  that  direction. 
The  condition  of  our  teams  helped  us  to  a  decision. 
The  new  bullock  proved  strong,  and  we  made 
better  progress.  The  mounted  portion  of  the  caravan 
scouted  ahead.  I  went  back  to  the  waggon  and 
walked,  quite  enjoying  it. 

The  sky  afterwards  clouded  over,  and  there  was  a 
slight  fall  of  snow,  while  a  piercing  wind  made  riding 
a  positive  torture.  Gordon  offered  me  his  horse,  but 
I  declined  it,  and  he  walked  beside  me  leading  the 


FROM  DESPAIR  TO  DAWNING  HOPE    221 

brute,  complaining  of  being  almost  paralysed  by  the 
cold.  Leighton  also  walked  a  good  deal.  We  marched 
through  ruined  villages  ;  some  were  burning  and  others 
were  smouldering.  Soldiers  were  warming  themselves 
at  the  blaze.     The  ground  was  strewn  with  tobacco. 

The  maturing  crops  constitute  the  wealth  of  the 
district,  and  many  of  them  had  not  been  garnered.  It 
was  a  scene  of  such  utter  desolation  that  I  hope  I 
shall  never  see  the  like  again.  My  sick  buffalo  gave 
me  the  slip  in  this  village.  He  had  evidently  wan- 
dered into  some  derelict  farm-yard,  where  I  hope  he 
satisfied  his  hunger  and  got  the  rest  which  he  so  much 
needed.  I  saw  many  cattle  and  poultry  straying, 
and  the  inevitable  pariahs.  The  road  followed  the 
course  of  the  river,  and  got  heavier.  Gordon  com- 
pletely broke  down,  whereupon  I  relieved  him  of  his 
horse,  and  put  him  on  the  waggon. 

We  struck  the  railway  station  at  4  p.m.  Here  we 
were  mixed  up  with  a  pack  of  animals  and  countless 
refugees,  many  of  whom  camped  on  the  rails.  They 
reminded  me  of  locusts.  Soldiers  were  camped  on 
either  side  for  miles.  With  great  difficulty  we  dis- 
covered the  officer  in  command,  put  our  case  before 
him,  and  asked  for  a  pass  for  Tchatalja.  He  told  us 
that  there  was  no  train  going  that  day,  but  at  four 
o'clock  on  the  following  afternoon  there  would  be  one, 
and  he  would  place  a  carriage  at  our  service.  In  the 
meantime  we  looked  for  some  camping  place. 

The  Red  Cross  camp  was  an  open  cesspool,  and 
the  hospital  tents  were  full  of  woxmded  and  fever 


222     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

patients.  Rotten  straw,  soaked  with  the  filth  of  the 
sewage  of  a  hospital,  was  the  best  that  could  be  used 
for  the  poor  fellows,  who  never  complained.  Doctors 
and  officers  worked  hard  to  alleviate  their  misery,  and 
everything  was  done  under  the  circumstances  that  was 
humanly  possible.  But  to  keep  the  camp  in  anything 
like  working  order,  one  required  the  proper  conve- 
niences and  the  necessary  transport  to  work  with. 

The  scenes  at  night  were  almost  hellish  in  their 
appearance  and  character,  for  sulphur  fumes  hung 
over  everything,  and  mountains  of  charcoal  were 
smouldering  like  small  volcanoes  around  us. 

The  village,  which  was  about  a  couple  of  miles 
away,  looked  more  promising,  and  a  charming  officer 
secured  for  us  billets  in  one  of  the  houses.  I  under- 
stood it  was  that  which  the  Commander-in-Chief, 
Abdullah  Pasha,  had  occupied  while  he  stopped  there. 
But  it  is  one  thing  to  be  allotted  a  house  in  one  of 
these  straggling  Turkish  villages,  and  quite  another 
thing  to  find  it.  We  started  our  weary  search  for 
our  house,  but  each  building  seemed  to  be  occupied 
by  troops,  and  everything  was  wrecked  and  in  dis- 
order. Every  now  and  then  shots  would  be  heard. 
These  were  being  fired  by  the  soldiers  at  ownerless 
fowl  and  geese.  Cows  and  calves  that  were  wander- 
ing about  forced  their  way  through  broken  fences 
and  enjoyed  bountiful  meals  ofi*  the  hayricks  and 
maize. 

We   went   to   several   houses,  but   finding   them 
occupied  we  decided   to  camp   in   the  straw,  which 


FROM  DESPAIR  TO  DAWNING  HOPE    223 

had  been  scattered  about  the  gardens  to  the  depth 
of  several  feet.  By  erecting  our  tent  on  the  top  of 
this  straw  we  could  all  sleep  as  in  feather  beds. 
But  although  we  were  well  provided  for  in  that 
respect,  the  cold  wind  and  trying  march  had  made 
us  almost  famishing  for  want  of  food. 

Poor  Gordon  collapsed  entirely,  and  lay  on  his 
back  on  the  straw.  I  covered  him  with  a  rug,  and 
he  fell  asleep  at  once.  By  this  time  we  were  almost 
too  tired  to  eat,  but  we  sat  down  to  bully  beef, 
potted  tongue,  and  other  dainties,  which  we  supple- 
mented by  a  bottle  of  liqueur  brandy  and  plenty  of 
good  water. 

Providentially  the  colonel  in  command  of  the  vil- 
lage was  making  his  rounds  and  saw  us  through  the 
hedge.  We  invited  him  to  join  us,  and  he  at  once 
accepted  our  invitation.  During  the  meal  he  sent 
one  of  his  orderlies  to  find  the  house  for  which  we 
had  vainly  searched,  and  to  bring  back  some  coffee. 
We  prevailed  on  him  to  try  our  brandy,  to  ward 
off  the  effects  of  the  cold.  Some  of  it  went  down 
the  wrong  way,  bringing  on  a  violent  fit  of  coughing, 
which  greatly  excited  our  risible  faculties.  On  very 
good  terms  with  each  other  we  proceeded  to  our 
house,  which  the  orderly  had  found  for  us.  We 
found  it  to  be  quite  a  villa  in  a  pretty  garden. 
On  the  ground-floor  there  were  two  rooms.  Into  a 
long  room-like  passage  which  ran  at  the  back  we 
bundled  with  all  our  belongings.  A  fire  was  smoulder- 
ing on  the  hearth,  and  when  a  plentiful  supply  of 


224     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

wood  had  been  found  we  soon  had  a  good  blaze. 
Some  chickens  had  meanwhile  been  purchased 
from  the  soldiers,  as  well  as  bread — actually  fresh 
new  bread — the  smell  of  which  was  almost  a  meal 
in  itself.  The  big  domestic  pot  was  soon  put  on  the 
fire,  and  in  it  were  placed  the  chickens,  a  portion 
of  kid,  some  tinned  beef  and  tongue,  with  curry 
powder  and  biscuits,  thus  composing  a  pot-pourri 
fit  for  the  gods.     What  a  sauce  hunger  is ! 

Gordon  lay  by  the  fire  until  he  had  thawed. 
The  camp  beds  were  put  up  and  we  actually  slept 
in  our  pyjamas.  The  health  of  Salim  the  cook 
was  drunk  with  musical  honours,  and  what  was 
still  more  appreciated  by  him,  he  was  well  "back- 
sheeshed." 

We  slept  far  into  the  forenoon.  After  a  late 
breakfast  we  called  on  our  jovial  host,  the  colonel, 
to  ask  his  advice  with  reference  to  our  plans.  The 
train  for  Tchatalja  was  timed  to  start  at  4  p.m. 
This  would  give  us  lots  of  time  and  enable  us  to 
explore  the  village. 

The  village  was  prettily  situated  on  the  sunny 
side  of  the  hills  which  sloped  down  to  the  railway 
station.  The  intervening  plain  was  a  veritable 
quagmire,  and  it  was  necessary  to  cross  this  quag- 
mire to  reach  the  railway.  We  selected  a  shorter 
and  more  direct  way  which  led  us  over  a  very  frail 
foot-bridge,  consisting  of  rickety  planks  unprotected 
by  guard  rails. 

To   get  the   wounded  across   this    frail  structure 


WITH  THE  REMNANTS  OF  AN  ARMY     225 

was  a  work  of  great  difficulty,  and  much  time  was 
occupied  in  the  task.  Then  we  came  upon  a  scene  of 
orderly  confusion ;  the  train  was  being  filled  with 
sick  and  wounded  and  refugees,  including  women  and 
children  who  had  been  perched  on  the  roofs  of  the 
cars. 

The  rays  of  the  sun  and  the  beauty  of  the  day 
appeared  to  relieve  their  drooping  spirits  and  impart 
new  vigour  to  them  after  their  terrible  experiences 
on  the  line  of  retreat.  The  result  was  that  there 
was  a  general  air  of  peace  and  contentment,  and  the 
women  took  advantage  of  the  opportunities  afforded 
them  to  attend  to  their  toilet,  and  to  improve  their 
personal  appearance  in  the  many  ways  in  which  they 
can  give  themselves  pleasure. 

It  might  almost  be  compared  to  a  land  of  promise 
after  their  wanderings  and  privations.  The  bakeries 
had  been  working  at  full  swing  to  supply  the  loaves, 
and  these  loaves  had  been  cut  into  halves  and  placed 
in  sacks,  which  were  brought  by  the  soldiers  to  the 
hungry  people  who  had  been  so  anxiously  waiting 
for  this  most  welcome  relief. 

No  gourmand  could  have  enjoyed  the  dinner  pro- 
vided by  the  most  skilled  chef  as  these  poor  refugees 
and  soldiers  enjoyed  this  meal  of  bread.  Yet  all  around 
them  were  scenes  of  ruin  and  desolation ;  scarcely  a 
house  had  remained  undamaged.  The  garden  fences 
had  been  broken  down ;  the  fruit  trees  had  been 
stripped  of  their  branches  to  provide  fuel  for  the 
fires ;    the   tobacco    plantations    had   been    trampled 


226     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

down  ;  and  numbers  of  stray  cattle  had  been  eating 
their  fill  of  garden  produce. 

Straw  littered  the  ground — pitiful  remnants  of 
an  utterly  spoiled  harvest — everywhere  dirty  battle- 
stained  soldiers  were  coming  and  going,  with  the 
result  of  their  foraging  in  the  surrounding  country. 
The  mosques  had  been  turned  into  barracks  for  the 
time  being,  but  these  sacred  edifices  were  nevertheless 
treated  by  the  men  with  the  greatest  respect.  It  was 
strange  to  see  the  soldiers  coming  out  of  the  mosques 
to  wash  themselves  at  the  fountain  before  entering  to 
make  their  devotions. 

Sir  Bryan  got  a  good  film  of  a  troop  of  cavalry  as 
they  wound  through  a  crooked  street.  They  rode  in 
good  formation,  displaying  no  signs  of  having  partici- 
pated in  a  panic-stricken  retreat.  We  walked  to  the 
station,  which  was  situated  some  two  miles  away  from 
the  village,  through  the  mud  and  filthy  litter  of  old 
camps,  the  stench  from  which  was  truly  awful  as  we 
approached  the  station.  Our  experiences  of  this  kind 
became  worse.  I  must  confess  that  I  had  never  pre- 
viously seen  human  beings  in  such  a  terrible  plight. 
Yet  with  it  all  there  was  no  complaining,  no  giving 
way  to  despair,  under  circumstances  that  might  have 
made  the  stoutest  heart  quail.  It  was  "  Kismet," 
and  the  faith  underlying  it,  which  animated  and 
supported  them. 

Mustafa  Bey,  the  commandant  at  the  station  who 
was  in  charge  of  the  transport  arrangements,  told  us 
he   was  certainly  sending  off  a   train  that  evening. 


WITH  THE  REMNANTS  OF  AN  ARMY    227 

thus  confirming  the  statement  made  by  the  colonel, 
adding  that  if  we  brought  our  baggage  to  the  station 
by  6  P.M.  we  should  be  in  time  for  it. 

Meanwhile  we  visited  the  hospitals  again  and 
found  that  there  were  plenty  of  tinned  stores  there. 
Had  the  accommodation  been  better  the  patients  would 
no  doubt  have  enjoyed  comparative  comfort ;  but  the 
position  as  they  found  it  had  to  meet  requirements. 
I  marvelled  at  the  rapid  manner  in  which  the  wounds 
of  the  soldiers  were  healing. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

RALLYING  AT  TCHATALJA 

We  took  leave  of  our  hospitable  hosts  rather  late  in 
the  afternoon,  and  did  not  reach  the  railway  till 
after  sunset.  We  unloaded,  and  relieved  each  other 
by  turns  in  looking  after  the  horses  and  attending  to 
the  baggage.  Apparent  confusion  reigned,  but  there 
was  some  method  in  it  all.  Crowds  of  people  lay 
or  sat  about  the  railway  track,  but,  although  the 
trains  were  constantly  being  shunted,  I  did  not  hear 
of  any  accidents. 

It  was  at  this  stage  that  I  was  obliged  to  part 
with  our  useful  buffalo  transport,  as  it  was  impossible 
to  take  it  by  train.  All  we  could  do  was  to  start  the 
buffaloes  with  the  empty  waggon  on  their  lonely  way, 
and  the  last  I  saw  of  them  they  were  crossing  the 
railway  in  search  of  food. 

Meanwhile  everyone  was  busy  at  the  station — 
too  busy,  in  fact,  to  look  after  the  correspondents.  At 
length  my  desolate  appearance  attracted  the  attention 
of  one  of  the  "big  men,"  who  very  considerately 
asked  if  he  could  be  of  any  service  to  me.  I  inquired 
whether  it  would  be  possible  to  settle  the  question  of 
transportation.  Taking  me  by  the  arm  he  walked 
with  me  into  the  telegraph  office,  which  was  full  of 
officials  tapping  at  the  machines  for  dear  life.     The 


RALLYING   AT   TCHATALJA        229 

gentlemaD  in  charge,  leaving  his  work  for  the  moment, 
supplied  me  with  passes  for  our  party  and  our  horses, 
at  the  same  time  telegraphing  down  the  line  to  advise 
the  authorities  of  our  expected  advent. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  train,  which  had  been  shunt- 
ing for  hours,  apparently  aimlessly,  came  at  last  to 
a  standstill.  Without  waiting  for  our  servants  we 
began  our  own  portering,  and  stowed  everything 
into  a  third-class  compartment,  out  of  which  the 
authorities  had  considerately  turned  a  lot  of  soldiers. 

The  train  was  packed  with  soldiers  and  people, 
who  rode  in  horse-boxes,  cattle  trucks,  and  coal 
trucks.  The  sick  and  wounded  lay  on  top  of  each 
other,  and  even  the  roofs  of  the  carriages  were 
crowded.  How  the  wounded  survived  that  freezing 
night  was  a  mystery  to  me.  The  sufferings,  too,  of 
the  women,  children,  young  babies,  and  old  grand- 
parents, balanced  on  the  curved  roof,  must  have 
been  terrible  as  the  train  rushed  through  the  bitter 
wind. 

Our  kind  and  generous  hosts  would  not  allow  us 
to  travel  with  the  baggage,  but  insisted  on  giving 
us  places  in  a  nicely  warmed  second-class  compart- 
ment, which  was  occupied  by  two  doctors,  who  cheer- 
fully arranged  to  make  room  for  three. 

The  scene  then  presented  was  a  weird  and  pictur- 
esque one.  Soldiers  were  carrying  long  torches,  which 
threw  a  fitful  line  on  the  crowd,  giving  them,  with 
their  distorted  shadows,  an  almost  Dantesque  effect. 

Just  before  starting  an  order  was  given  that  the 


230     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

wounded  in  the  hospital  who  were  able  to  get  to  the 
train  might  scramble  in,  and  then  began  the  most 
extraordinary  obstacle  race  I  ever  beheld.  Many- 
men  were  handicapped  by  their  wounds.  A  few  of  the 
sick  were  able  to  walk,  others  managed  to  hobble 
across  the  metals  with  the  support  of  comrades,  while 
some  actually  crawled  and  rolled  to  the  train.  One 
poor  fellow  managed  to  creep  close  to  the  rails,  where 
his  strength  failed  him.  He  shouted  loudly  "  Effendi ! 
Effendi ! "  Leighton  and  I  lifted  him  up,  and  sup- 
ported him  to  one  of  the  crowded  horse-boxes,  where 
his  presence  was  strongly  objected  to.  We  gave  him 
a  hoist  and  he  rolled  over  those  who  blocked  the  door, 
falling  on  the  layer  behind.  There  was  some  disturb- 
ance inside,  but  he  finally  settled  there. 

We  were  then  really  off  at  last ;  the  two  engines 
panted  as  they  toiled  at  the  heavy  load.  Our  pro- 
gress was  necessarily  slow,  as  the  line  was  guarded 
by  pickets  stationed  at  intervals,  who  had  the 
appearance  of  animated  signal-posts,  and  who  fre- 
quently held  us  up  to  tell  us  the  condition  of  the  line 
immediately  ahead. 

A  cold  bright  moon  lighted  the  country,  showing 
the  details  of  the  camps  we  passed  with  great  clear- 
ness. 

We  beguiled  the  monotony  by  cooking  a  dinner. 
The  ever -resourceful  Leighton  produced  his  spirit- 
stove,  and  we  partook  of  a  simple  menu  which  we 
all  thoroughly  enjoyed.  It  was  followed  by  cafe  a  la 
Turque  made  by  one  of  the  doctors.     We  wound  up 


RALLYING   AT    TCHATALJA         231 

in  a  most  satisfactory  manner  with  old  cognac  and 
cigars.  Some  of  the  brandy  was  served  out  by  one 
of  the  doctors  to  the  most  seriously  wounded  on  the 
train.  Cat  naps  or  dozes  filled  up  the  time  until  four 
o'clock  A.M.,  when  we  ran  through  the  lines  at  Tcha- 
talja,  where  we  had  intended  to  stop,  if  possible. 

The  huge  camp  looked  most  picturesque  as  we 
approached  it,  there  being  hundreds  of  watch-fires 
in  shallow  pits,  round  which  the  soldiers  huddled. 
These  pits  might  be  about  two  feet  deep,  making 
excellent  wind-screens.  The  effect  was  curious  and 
fascinating,  reminding  me  of  the  fire  pits  in  the 
Inferno. 

The  officer  in  command  at  Tchatalja  informed  us 
that  the  train  would  remain  there  for  at  least  six 
or  eight  hours,  so  that  we  should  gain  nothing  by 
leaving  the  train  until  daylight ;  we  accordingly  stuck 
to  our  berths  and  fell  asleep.  When  we  awoke,  to 
our  dismay  and  regret  we  found  ourselves  close  to 
San  Stephano,  but  there  was  no  turning  back. 
Stamboul  was  now  our  evident  destination,  and  we 
reached  it  by  ten  o'clock  that  morning. 

Worse  was,  however,  to  happen.  One  misfortune 
was  followed  by  another.  Half  of  the  train  in  which 
our  horses  were  being  carried  had  been  left  behind 
at  Tchatalja.  This  was  a  serious  blow  to  us,  but 
one  that  could  not  be  avoided.  We  ought  to  have 
been  allowed  to  stop  at  Tchatalja.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  authorities  preferred  our  room  to  our  company. 
It  was  quite  possible  that  the  General  in  command 


232     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

would  not  have  allowed  us  to  remain  at  Tchatalja, 
under  the  circumstances  in  which  the  army  was 
placed.  It  would  have  been  madness  to  have  allowed 
correspondents  to  see  anything  of  the  preparations 
for  the  defence  of  the  position  at  that  time. 

I  must  confess  that  I  was  not  at  all  sorry  to 
see  the  ghttering  waters  of  the  Golden  Horn  once 
more.  On  arriving  at  Stamboul  we  hired  a  number 
of  porters  to  carry  our  goods  and  chattels  to  the 
hotel.  M.  Tokatlian  expressed  the  greatest  joy  at 
my  safe  return,  and  told  me  that  my  room,  No.  80, 
was  ready  for  me.  I  ordered  a  special  dejeuner,  and 
meanwhile  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  a  good  hot  bath. 

Almost  the  first  man  I  met  at  Constantinople 
was  Beevor,  which  gave  me  great  pleasure,  for  I 
had  been  somewhat  anxious  as  to  his  safety.  In 
the  confusion  of  war  the  correspondents  had  been 
separated  from  each  other,  with  the  natural  result 
that  inquiries  were  often  being  made  as  to  the  fate 
of  such  and  such  a  friend. 

In  the  course  of  our  conversation  he  gave  me 
some  very  interesting  information  with  reference  to 
his  movements  and  experiences  since  we  had  parted. 
His  story,  which  I  am  pleased  to  be  able  to  give, 
was  as  follows : 

"  After  leaving  you  in  the  deserted  square  at 
Tchorlu,  I  started  with  Ashmead-Bartlett,  of  the 
Daily  Telegraioh,  hoping  to  see  something  of  the 
Bulgarians.  We  rode  out  of  the  town,  picking  our 
way  among  the  dead  carcases  of  beasts  of  burden 


RALLYING   AT   TCHATALJA         233 

on  the  Ltile  Burgas  road.  We  attracted  very  little 
notice,  but  I  took  the  precaution  of  turning  my 
bracelet  watch  inwards  in  case  it  might  prove  too 
attractive  and  worth  looting,  should  we  meet  any 
Bulgarians. 

"  We  were  fortunate  in  having  a  good  stout 
Englishman — one  Bryant — who  understood  the  East 
and  its  languages.  We  kept  to  the  Ltile  Burgas 
road  for  a  few  miles,  seeing  nothing  save  wreck  and 
ruin,  and  a  few  weary  soldiers  sitting  in  the  mud 
at  the  roadside,  waiting  for  death  to  release  them 
from  their  misery. 

"  Not  seeing  any  sign  of  the  pursuing  Bulgarians, 
we  decided  to  steer  north-west  over  the  open  country. 
We  fell  in  with  a  band  of  about  twenty  deserters, 
nearly  all  of  whom  had  thrown  away  their  arms 
and  equipment.  These  fellows  were  travelling  in 
a  south-easterly  direction — towards  their  homes. 
Evidently  they  were  part  of  the  right  wing.  They 
told  us  that  they  had  seen  no  Bulgarians,  but  they 
had  heard  that  they  intended  striking  for  Tcherkesh 
Keui  to  cut  off  the  retreat.  At  any  rate  they  were 
taking  no  risks,  and  were  '  fed  up '  with  the  war. 

"  This  story  of  the  enemy's  movements,  if  true, 
concerned  us,  as  we  stood  a  chance  of  being  cap- 
tured. Wearing,  as  I  did,  the  uniform  of  a  Turkish 
soldier,  without  passport  or  credentials  of  any  kind, 
it  would  have  meant  a  bullet  for  breakfast. 

"  In  the  circumstances  we  thought  it  would  be 
as  well  to  make  a  bee-line  for  Tcherkesh  Keui,  which 


234     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

we  hoped  to  reach  that  night.  A  bitter  north  wind 
sprang  up  and  cleared  the  sky,  and  at  the  same  time 
hardened  the  roads,  which  of  course  would  be  an 
advantage  to  the  pursuing  army.  We  succeeded 
only,  however,  in  reaching  Tchorlu,  which  was  now 
deserted  by  soldiers  and  left  entirely  in  the  hands  of 
the  Greek  element  and  two  correspondents — yourself 
and  Sir  Bryan  Leighton.  The  Greeks  of  course  were 
waiting  to  greet  the  Allies,  and  it  was  strongly  sus- 
pected that  these  people  had  been  sending  money 
to  the  enemy. 

"  We  left  Tchorlu  for  good  at  midday  in  a  two- 
horsed  '  norabudgee,'  or  light  four-wheeled  cart.  We 
managed  to  secure  a  driver — an  Albanian — dressed 
in  the  picturesque  costume  of  his  country.  He  quite 
realised  that  our  position  was  somewhat  dangerous 
and  precarious,  and  he  swore  by  Allah  and  the 
butt  of  a  revolver  which  he  carried  in  his  sash 
to  bring  us  to  Constantinople  inside  of  a  week.  At 
first  the  road  was  so  bad,  with  mud  up  to  the 
axles,  that  it  almost  stopped  us.  After  a  time  we 
struck  a  broad  track  along  the  slope  of  the  hills. 
A  few  miles  further  we  came  up  with  the  rear  of 
the  retreating  army.  We  pushed  along  and  soon 
passed  the  bulk  of  the  refugees.  If  a  cart  broke 
down  or  turned  over,  it  was  instantly  thrust  on  one 
side  to  leave  a  clear  passage  for  the  guns,  which  the 
gunners  made  the  most  heroic  efforts  to  save.  Nearly 
all  the  horses  were  exhausted.  I  noticed  the  men 
who  served  several  guns  pulling  away  and  trying  to 


RALLYING   AT   TCHATALJA       235 

rescue  the  Krupps,  until  absolute  fatigue  compelled 
them  to  abandon  the  guns. 

"  We  arrived  at  a  picturesque  village,  situated  in 
a  quiet  little  dale,  almost  hidden  amongst  orchards 
and  fruit  trees.  This  village  was  apparently  quite 
deserted,  the  only  inhabitants  seeming  to  be  a  noisy 
flock  of  white  geese. 

"  Why  the  hungry  refugees  had  not  caught  them, 
I  cannot  imagine.  I  soon  captured  one,  thus  setting 
perhaps  a  bad  example.  But  necessity  knows  no 
law.  Some  soldiers  resting  by  the  roadside  quickly 
followed  my  lead,  and  in  less  than  two  minutes  every 
goose  which  did  not  fly  away  was  caught.  My  bird 
arrived  safely  in  Constantinople,  not  through  any 
compunction  on  my  part  about  killing  him,  but 
through  the  utter  impossibility  of  making  a  fire 
wherewith  to  cook  him.  We  struck  the  railway 
a  few  miles  north  of  Tcherkesh  Keui,  where  the 
road  follows  the  river.  My  pony  '  Casay '  shied  at 
what  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  bundle  of  rags.  On 
closer  inspection  of  it  I  was  horrified  to  see  it  was 
a  half-buried  corpse. 

"  As  we  neared  Tcherkesh  Keui  the  confusion  in- 
creased. The  mud  and  slush,  which  were  mixed  with 
camp  refuse  at  every  step,  gave  forth  odours  that 
wafted  up  the  breath  of  death.  From  north  to  north- 
east the  country  was  black  with  fugitives,  and  the 
crush  was  so  bad  that  thousands  of  them  gave  up 
the  attempt  to  reach  the  station,  bivouacking  in 
the  cold  night  among  the  hills." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE   MIGRATION   OF  A  NATION 

"  On  reaching  Tcherkesh  Keui  we  reported  ourselves  to 
Vashki  Bey,  who  was  overjoyed  at  the  return  of  some 
of  his  scattered  flock,  many  of  whom  he  never  expected 
to  see  alive  again.  Seats  were  secured  in  the  last 
train  going  to  Stamboul.  There  were  three  other 
trains  standing  in  the  station,  crammed  with  sick 
and  wounded.  The  strongest  men  rode  on  the  roofs. 
Sentries  were  posted  over  the  trains,  with  fixed 
bayonets,  to  keep  off  the  clamouring  crowd,  and  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  delay  in  getting  them  off.  I 
witnessed  many  distressing  spectacles.  Refugees 
were  begging  and  praying  on  their  knees  to  be  allowed 
to  ride  on  the  couplings  of  the  carriages.  They 
were  frantic  with  terror  at  the  bare  idea  of  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  advancing  and  victorious  Bul- 
garians. Rumours  and  reports  of  the  most  horrible 
acts  of  wanton  cruelty  were  of  course  believed. 
Whether  these  reports  were  justified  or  not  I  can- 
not say. 

*'  All  this  time  the  engines  were  puffing  and 
snorting  in  their  efforts  to  move  the  overladen  train. 
At  last  the  senior  officer  decided  to  leave  the  two 
end    carriages,    which   were    filled   with    desperately 

wounded  soldiers,  to  their  fate  and  proceed.     To  this 

336 


THE    MIGRATION    OF   A   NATION     237 

the  doctors  offered  such  strong  objections  that  a  com- 
promise was  effected.  The  wounded  were  taken  on 
and  a  number  of  refugees  were  left  behind  instead. 

"  There  was  no  room  for  our  horses  or  baggage, 
so  we  determined  to  stick  to  our  property.  Bryant 
advised  us  to  camp  and  send  the  Albanian  to  try  and 
get  some  forage  for  the  animals.  Meantime  we  made 
our  dinner  of  dry  bread  and  treacle,  supplemented 
by  some  biscuits  generously  presented  to  us  by  a 
correspondent.  These  were  saturated  with  kerosene, 
which  did  not  improve  their  flavour.  However,  it 
satisfied  our  hunger,  and  the  kerosene  seemed  to 
keep  out  the  cold.  In  the  middle  of  our  meal  the 
tent  began  moving,  and  one  end  was  ripped  open. 

"  Eunning  outside  I  found  that  the  Albanian,  with 
his  usual  carelessness,  had  left  the  horses  in  the  cart, 
simply  fastening  the  guys  and  ropes  of  our  tent  to 
the  wheels.  Of  course  the  poor  animals  attempted 
to  wander  off  in  search  of  food.  He  refused  point- 
blank  to  remove  the  harness,  but  made  a  compromise 
by  taking  the  animals  out  of  the  cart.  Misfortunes 
never  come  singly.  In  the  confusion  poor  Ashmead- 
Bartlett's  head  came  into  collision  with  the  tent  pole, 
which  practically  knocked  him  out.  Under  these 
conditions  we  decided  not  to  start  until  midnight. 
When  Bryant  called  us  at  that  hour  I  crawled  out 
into  the  bitter  night  to  assist  in  the  packing.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  scene  that  presented  itself  The 
hills  for  miles  round  were  dotted  with  watch-fires, 
and  further  illumined  by  burning  houses  and  villages, 


238     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

round  which  the  soldiers  were  chattering,  having 
fully  recovered  their  spirits.  They  were  amusing 
themselves  by  throwing  handfuls  of  cartridges  into 
the  flames.  What  fun  soldiers  can  thus  get  I  can- 
not imagine.  But  some  such  incidents  happened  in 
Cambridgeshire  during  the  1912  manoeuvres,  when 
there  was  a  tragic  ending.  One  of  the  soldiers 
was  injured  seriously  by  an  exploding  cartridge 
during  a  sing-song. 

"  Trains  were  constantly  leaving  the  station  in  the 
direction  of  Stamboul.  The  shrill  shrieks  of  the 
engine  added  to  the  despairing  cries  of  those  who 
were  left  behind,  and  the  yells  of  triumph  and 
praises  to  Allah  from  the  more  fortunate  ones  who 
were  on  the  roofs  of  the  carriages.  It  was  a  veri- 
table pandemonium  of  noise.  The  pitiful  cries  and 
wailing  of  the  children  were  by  far  the  most  pathetic 
notes  in  this  weird  chorus. 

"  The  cold  now  was  so  intense  that  I  could  not 
keep  warm,  notwithstanding  the  heavy  sheepskin 
coat  I  was  wearing.  What  the  sufferings  of  the 
feeble  women  and  perishing  children — most  of  them 
lightly  clad  in  cotton  garments — must  have  been,  I 
leave  you  to  imagine. 

"  Long  before  daylight  the  wail  of  many  an  infant 
had  ceased  in  death.  Mothers  actually  threw  their 
babies  off  the  train,  leaving  them  to  a  chance  burial. 
No  one  dared  to  leave  the  trains,  as  their  places  would 
have  been  instantly  taken  by  others.  The  enormous 
bivouac    broke    up    and    started    wearily.     It  was  a 


THE    MIGRATION   OF   A   NATION     239 

solemn  and  impressive  scene — the  migration  of  a 
nation. 

"  We  could  not  possibly  have  marched  among  such 
a  crowd.  I  had  perforce  to  remain  by  the  tent  all 
night,  keeping  watch  and  ward  over  our  little  camp. 
The  Albanian,  who  squatted  before  the  fire,  of  course 
fell  asleep  and  allowed  it  to  go  out,  much  to  our 
annoyance,  as  we  could  get  no  coffee  or  tea,  and 
had  to  satisfy  ourselves  with  kerosene  biscuits  and 
dirty  water.  We  made  a  bad  start,  for  in  crossing 
the  metals  one  wheel  of  our  cart  stuck  so  badly 
that  it  took  four  soldiers  to  lift  it  out. 

"  It  was  pretty  evident  that  the  Turks  were  not 
going  to  leave  the  enemy  much  at  Tcherkesh  Keui. 
A  couple  of  regiments  which  had  never  been  at  the 
front  were  in  charge  of  the  camp.  These  fellows 
were  burning  all  the  buildings.  By  the  way,  these 
were  the  first  organised  troops  I  had  seen  since 
the  battle,  and  the  last  I  was  to  see  until  some 
weeks  afterwards,  when  I  witnessed  the  landing  at 
Stamboul  of  the  reinforcements  from  Asia. 

"  Whilst  journeying  along  in  company  with  the 
refugees,  we  noticed  a  singular-looking  old  gentleman 
mounted  on  a  mangy-looking  white  pony  of  some 
antiquity.  He  was  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a 
surgeon -colonel.  The  sun  was  shining  and  the  day 
was  hot.  The  colonel  shaded  himself  with  an  old 
umbrella.  We  happened  to  be  photographing  the 
crowd  at  the  time,  and  he  signalled  us  with  his 
'  gamp '  and  at  the  same   time  intimated  his  desire 


240     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

to  be  taken.     We  made  a  great  show  of  posing  him, 
which  pleased  him  very  much. 

"  On  separating,  he  gave  us  his  name  and  address 
on  a  very  dirty-looking  piece  of  paper,  and  we  parted 
the  best  of  friends.  Towards  the  afternoon  we  saw 
him  again,  when  he  told  us  to  look  for  him  at  the 
next  halting-place,  about  ten  miles  farther  on,  where 
he  promised  to  give  us  some  bread  for  ourselves  and 
corn  for  our  animals.  He  said  he  would  also  endea- 
vour to  procure  for  us  a  couple  of  Mausers.  '  They 
might  be  useful,'  he  said,  '  in  your  hands,  should 
the  Bulgarians  come  up  with  us.  They  would  also 
come  in  handy  in  case  of  an  attack  on  the 
Christians.' 

"  For  the  first  time  we  heard  that  King  Ferdinand 
had  declared  a  Holy  War,  and  we  wished  at  that 
moment  he  was  with  us.  From  a  high  hill  which 
dominated  the  country  we  were  able  to  realise  the 
magnitude  of  the  immigration,  for  the  whole  place 
seemed  to  be  black  with  people,  animals,  and  vehicles 
of  all  sorts  and  kinds.  Many  of  the  women  were 
unveiled,  but  they  hastily  concealed  their  faces  as  we 
passed  by.  There  was  one  exception — a  most  beau- 
tiful woman,  almost  white,  evidently  a  Circassian, 
deathly  pale  from  exposure  and  misery.  She  evidently 
cared  not  who  saw  her ;  indeed  she  was  very  like  a 
handsome  London  lady  of  my  acquaintance. 

"  I  realised  the  horrors  of  war,  and  it  made  my 
blood  boil  to  see  so  much  misery,  caused  by  greed 
and  selfishness,  cloaked  by  the  hypocritical  pretence 


THE    MIGRATION    OF   A   NATION     241 

of  reforms.  Reforms  may  be  needed,  but  like  other 
changes  they  should  be  allowed  to  grow. 

"  At  sundown  we  halted  at  a  railway  station  with 
some  unpronounceable  name.  Our  old  friend  the 
surgeon -colon  el  was  as  good  as  his  word,  so  far  as 
food  was  concerned,  but  the  water  was  short.  This 
was  the  case  everywhere.  Every  station  has  its 
pump  for  general  use,  but  there  is  no  arrangement 
for  emergencies. 

"  We  were  fortunate  in  securing  good  sleeping 
quarters,  a  house  being  placed  at  our  disposal.  I 
made  a  good  loose-box  for  my  horse  between  the 
staircase  and  the  back  parlour,  and  gave  him  as  much 
corn  as  he  could  eat.  About  thirty  Bulgarian  prisoners 
were  brought  in  and  lodged  in  the  house  next  door. 
They  were  well  treated  and  supplied  with  food 
and  warmth.  In  this  bitter  weather  their  lot  was  a 
happy  one  contrasted  with  most  of  their  captors,  who 
sat  outside  in  the  frosty  biting  wind. 

"  With  Turkish  officers  our  party  had  increased  to 
twelve.  We  had  a  sort  of  basket  picnic,  each  bringing 
what  he  could.  I  am  afraid  that  our  Turkish  friends 
contributed  more  than  their  share.  We  had  the  goose, 
and  very  good  it  was.  Bartlett  suddenly  recollected 
that  he  had  a  bottle  of  champagne  stowed  away  in 
his  baggage.  This  was  quickly  produced,  carefully 
measured,  and  shared  equally.  In  four  days  we 
reached  Starnboul." 


CHAPTER   XV 

MAHMOUD  MUKHTAR  PASHA'S   NARROW   ESCAPE 
FROM  DEATH 

While  I  was  staying  at  the  hotel  I  received  a 
letter  from  my  friend,  Mr.  E.  N.  Bennett,  ex-M.P.,  who 
had  been  wondering  what  had  happened  to  me  since  we 
were  at  Tchorlu  together.  We  had  parted  at  the  rail- 
way depot  there,  as  his  official  position  enabled  him  to 
travel  with  the  foreign  military  attaches.  He  had 
since  had  some  strange  experiences,  which  I  am  in 
a  position  to  describe  in  these  pages. 

It  appears  that  he  had  procured  horses  and 
ridden  as  far  as  Vise,  which  town  lies  in  the  direction 
of  Kirk  Kilisse,  in  order  to  watch  the  operations 
of  Mukhtar  Pasha's  divisions.  He  could  not  stay 
there  long,  however,  for  the  reason  that  within  a 
short  time  after  his  arrival  the  determined  and 
well-sustained  Bulgarian  attacks  had  driven  back 
the  ill-fed  and  badly-organised  Turkish  forces.  The 
Ottoman  soldiers  retreated,  with  their  sick  and 
wounded,  to  seek  refuge  behind  the  lines  of  Tchatalja. 

My   friend's    description    of   the    hardships    and 

terrors  of  the    Turkish   retreat,  or  rather  rout — for 

the  army   became  nothing  more   than   a   huge  mob 

of   panic-stricken   men,   whose    number^   were    con^ 

242 


NARROW   ESCAPE   FROM   DEATH     243 

tinually  being  swollen  by  the  influx  of  hundreds  of 
terrorised  peasantry — is  very  similar  to  my  own. 

It  was  trying  to  beast  as  well  as  man,  so  great 
a  pace  had  to  be  kept  up  to  avoid  the  pursuing 
squadrons  of  victorious  Bulgarian  cavalry,  and  so 
bad  was  the  condition  of  the  country,  particularly 
of  the  roads.  To  fill  the  cup  of  misery  to  the  very 
brim  it  rained  in  torrents,  which  changed  even  the 
face  of  the  countryside.  Brooks  and  ditches  became 
rivers,  ponds  became  lakes,  fields  and  moorland  be- 
came swamps  and  treacherous  morasses. 

The  swollen  rivers  rendered  the  bridges  unsafe, 
and  swept  some  of  them  away  altogether.  Mr. 
Bennett  and  his  party,  including  several  attaches, 
together  with  their  servants,  narrowly  escaped  being 
drowned  in  a  river,  through  which  they  tried  to 
swim  their  horses. 

After  many  adventures  and  hairbreadth  escapes, 
of  a  kind  that  are  more  interesting  to  read  about 
than  to  undergo,  they  reached  the  town  of  Tchorlu. 
There  they  waited  in  the  cold — not  that  bright 
cheerful  cold  that  comes  with  frost  and  is  so  pleasant 
and  exhilarating,  but  that  horrible  damp  cold  in 
which  a  man  shivers,  chilled  to  the  bone — without 
a  dry  stitch  of  clothing  to  their  backs,  for  the  re- 
appearance of  the  train  which  some  hours  previously 
had  left  heavily  laden. 

So  inadequate  and  bad  was  the  hospital  accommo- 
dation lor  the  great  numbers  of  casualties,  that  room 
in  tents  and  sheds  Qould  only  be  found  for  the  lesser 


244     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

half,  whilst  the  remainder  crawled  between  box  cars, 
trucks,  and  even  the  platform  itself,  in  order  to  find 
shelter  from  the  downpour  of  rain.  In  such  dis- 
tressing straits  did  these  unfortunate  wounded 
soldiers  find  themselves,  that  death  must  have  come 
as  a  welcome  relief  to  many  of  them.  Even  those 
who  were  in  the  tents,  and  whose  lot  was  superior 
to  that  of  the  sufferers  in  the  open  air,  were  by  no 
means  comfortable,  as  the  word  is  generally  under- 
stood when  sick  persons  are  concerned.  Some  of 
them  certainly  had  plenty  of  room,  but  these  were 
in  a  very  small  minority.  The  majority  were  packed 
as  tight  as  sardines  in  a  tin  within  the  shelters, 
many  even  being  with  half  their  bodies  exposed  to 
the  weather. 

Eight  hours  later — and  very  long  hours  they 
must  have  been — the  train  arrived,  and  by  great 
good  luck  the  little  party  secured  room  in  one  of 
the  carriages  for  their  journey  to  Stamboul.  Quan- 
tities of  refugees  clambered  aboard,  and  at  length 
the  train  started.  That  night  the  party  slept  com- 
fortably and  safely  in  a  Pera  hotel,  having  left  the 
greater  part  of  their  troubles  behind  them. 

Mahmoud  Mukhtar  Pasha  left  the  train  at  Hadem 
Keui,  and  a  few  days  later  great  consternation  was 
excited  in  patriotic  circles  in  Constantinople,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  publication  of  the  news  by  several 
of  the  best  informed  journals  of  the  gallant  Pasha's 
death.  Fortunately  the  report  of  the  General's 
decease  was  contradicted  the  next  day.     It  appeared, 


NARROW   ESCAPE   FROM    DEATH     245 

however,  that  he  had  been  dangerously  wounded, 
although  no  serious  fears  were  entertained  in  re- 
gard to  his  recovery.  The  hopeful  anticipations  that 
were  formed  in  this  respect  were  afterwards  justi- 
fied, but  there  was  mourning  over  the  fact  that  the 
greater  part  of  his  staff  had  been  killed,  and  that 
the  rest  had  been  placed  hors  de  combat. 

Bennett's  description  of  what  had  so  nearly  be- 
come a  catastrophe  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  of  interest 
to  my  readers.  The  story  of  what  took  place  has 
been  told  to  me  several  times,  and  as  each  account 
came  from  an  entirely  different  source,  and  the  main 
particulars  and  most  important  points  tallied  with 
the  salient  features  of  the  others,  I  have  every  reason 
to  think  that  his  narrative  rests  on  a  perfectly 
sound  and  firm  foundation  of  fact.  I  believe,  indeed, 
that  it  is  quite  true,  and  therefore  append  it. 

Desiring  to  test  the  truth  of  certain  reports, 
the  Pasha  rode  out  with  his  staff,  quite  unnecessarily, 
as  it  appears,  until  he  got  within  the  fiercest  zone  of 
the  shrapnel  fire.  The  terrible  risks  he  was  running 
alarmed  even  his  officers.  Vainly,  however,  did  they 
expostulate  with  him,  and  endeavour  to  persuade 
him  to  retire.  With  that  wild  and  rash  valour 
which  is  characteristic  of  the  Moslem,  he  adhered 
to  his  self-imposed  but  useless  task,  heedless  alike 
of  shrapnel  and  the  fire  of  the  enemy's  pickets. 
Continuing  his  tour  of  inspection,  he  rode  from 
position  to  position  amid  a  veritable  hailstorm  of 
death-dealing  leaden  projectiles. 


246    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

While  he  was  thus  running  the  gauntlet  of  death 
he  was  enveloped  in  the  long  light-grey  cloak  of 
regulation  pattern,  which  all  other  Ottoman  officers 
wear. 

The  casualties  among  these  officers  throughout 
the  campaign  were  very  heavy,  and  were  due,  I 
am  firmly  convinced,  to  the  fact  that  they  were 
wearing  a  uniform  altogether  different  from  that  of 
the  private  soldiers.  They  thus  presented  such  con- 
spicuous targets  that  the  enemy  could  always  single 
them  out  and  pick  them  off,  and  in  this  way  deprive 
the  Turks  of  their  commanders. 

Worn  out  by  fatigue  and  hunger,  the  Pasha 
and  his  staff  arrived  at  the  advanced  post,  which 
was  situated  a  short  distance  beyond  Eivathi,  Dis- 
mounting there  they  entered  a  bell  tent,  and  partook 
of  such  refreshments  as  the  small  outpost  could  pro- 
vide, and  slept  for  a  few  hours.  At  early  dawn 
they  were  again  in  the  saddle,  riding  toward  the 
last  and  most  advanced  position,  Kativilli.  A  small 
Bulgarian  vedette  was  then  already  in  position,  some 
miles  distant  to  the  right  towards  the  shores  of 
Lake  Derkos. 

Mahmoud  Mukhtar  Pasha  and  his  gallant  little 
band  of  followers  rode  along  the  road  which  rises  and 
falls,  and  turns  and  twists  amid  the  picturesque  hills 
that  form  the  principal  feature  of  that  neighbourhood 
in  the  direction  of  Kativilli.  As  they  proceeded  they 
chatted  cheerfully,  all  thoughts  of  danger  being 
thrown  to  the  winds,  for  were  not  their  countrymen 


NARROW   ESCAPE    FROM   DEATH     247 

occupying  a  position  ahead  ?  Apparently  they  did 
not  anticipate  that  a  group  of  mounted  men  clattering 
along,  with  no  semblance  of  order,  would  attract 
the  attention  of  the  enemy,  much  less  that  that 
compact  mass  would  be  a  splendid  mark  for  the 
sharpshooter ;  while  the  discovery  of  the  fact  that 
they  were  oflScers  would  sharpen  the  eyesight  of 
the  lurking  foe  and  make  his  aim  truer. 

The  danger  of  their  movements  was  increased 
by  a  slight  mist  which  covered  the  country,  and  made 
even  close  objects  indistinct  and  blurred.  When  the 
mist  became  less  dense  they  suddenly  saw  through  it 
a  redoubt  that  was  crowded  with  Bulgarian  soldiers. 
The  enemy,  who  were  in  overwhelming  numbers,  saw 
the  General  and  his  party  before  the  latter  had 
time  to  take  cover.  Their  sole  refuge  was  then  in 
flight,  but  before  they  could  turn  explosions  shook 
the  redoubt,  echoing  among  the  hills,  and  a  tempest 
of  rifle  bullets  whistled  around  and  over  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief and  his  staff".  Strangely,  however 
— and  it  was  probably  owing  to  the  slight  but  wel- 
come cover  of  the  mist — this  terrible  fire  at  almost 
revolver  range  caused  little  injury  to  any  of  the 
Turks,  and  before  the  astonished  Bulgarians  could 
jerk  back  the  bolts  of  their  rifles,  Mahmoud  and 
his  staff"  were  galloping  away  at  breakneck  speed, 
along  the  road  down  which  a  moment  before  they 
had  ridden  so  cheerfully. 

Bang  1  bang !  bang !  went  the  enemy's  rifles,  and 
the  General's  horse  toppled  over,  falling  on  the  un- 


248     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

fortunate  Pasha,  and  pinning  him  effectually  to  the 
earth. 

A  heavy  well-aimed  fire  was  then  poured  into  the 
party,  and  the  remainder  of  the  mounted  staff-officers 
went  down,  some  of  them  having  had  their  horses 
shot,  while  others  had  been  wounded  so  badly  that 
they  could  no  longer  retain  their  seats  upon  their  now 
terrified  chargers. 

Despite  the  deadly  fire,  Eyut,  an  orderly,  helped 
his  gallant  leader  to  extricate  himself  from  beneath 
his  horse,  and  then  carried  the  Pasha  on  his  back  to 
the  comparative  safety  afforded  by  a  bend  in  the  road- 
way. Placing  the  wounded  man  gently,  and  in  a 
comfortable  position  on  the  ground,  Eyut,  at  the  risk 
of  his  life,  returned  with  another  orderly  in  face  of 
the  enemy's  bullets,  which  were  now  directed  at  them, 
to  the  redoubt  to  rescue  another  wounded  officer, 
Salahadin  Bey.  The  other  stricken  Turks,  Kemil, 
Kanzem,  and  Haran  Bey,  were  but  slightly  wounded, 
and  were  able  to  drag  themselves  back  to  safety. 
All  the  horses  were  shot,  and  the  two  orderlies  were 
compelled  to  carry  Salahadin,  and  to  help  the  re- 
maining three.  No  one  was  hit,  but  unfortunately 
no  horses  were  to  be  had,  and  Eyut  had  to  carry 
Mahmoud  Mukhtar  Pasha  the  whole  way  back  to  the 
rear,  a  distance  of  about  two  miles,  which  feat  he 
accomplished  without  mishap.  Major  Von  Hahwachter, 
a  German  officer  serving  on  the  staff,  had  a  narrow 
escape,  a  bullet  passing  through  his  fez.  If  it  had  been 
two  inches  lower  he  would  have  been  a  dead  man. 


NARROW   ESCAPE   FROM   DEATH     249 

With  great  difficulty  they  managed  to  reach  a 
Turkish  post,  where  a  conveyance  for  the  wounded 
General  was  found  after  some  trouble.  In  this  crude 
springless  vehicle  the  Pasha  was  driven  to  Fort  Kura 
Kyak,  a  distance  of  four  miles.  The  roads  were  not 
of  the  best,  and  the  jolting  of  the  cart  must  have  been 
frightful.  The  agonies  he  endured  must  have  been 
almost  intolerable. 

Still  suffering  intense  pain,  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  was  forwarded  to  Hadem  Keui  by  automobile, 
and  from  thence  by  train  to  Constantinople.  The 
narrative  reads  almost  like  romance.  Eyut,  who 
effected  these  heroic  rescues,  performed  deeds  which, 
even  in  these  days  of  magazine  rifles  and  machine 
guns,  make  war  glorious.  Had  he  been  in  the  service 
of  England  instead  of  that  of  the  Porte,  his  reward 
would  probably  have  been  a  Victoria  Cross. 

Happily  all  these  men  are  on  the  road  to  recovery, 
and  by  the  time  this  book  has  been  published  they 
will  be  on  their  feet  again,  although  Salahadin  when 
first  brought  in  was  believed  to  be  dead. 

When  taken  to  the  German  hospital,  Mahmoud 
Mukhtar  Pasha  said  that  he  hoped  to  be  in  command 
of  his  men  again  in  a  month's  time. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   RAVAGES  OF   CHOLERA  AMONG   THE   TURKS 

The  difficulties  and  complications  which  were  increas- 
ing for  the  Turkish  army  were  rendered  still  more 
serious  by  the  outbreak  of  cholera.  Not  only  had  it 
to  be  contended  with  on  the  lines  of  communication 
but  also  behind  the  fortifications  at  Tchatalja,  and  it 
extended  even  to  Constantinople.  This  fell  disease 
accounted  for  two  thousand  victims  a  day. 

Owing  to  the  hardy  constitution  and  temperate 
habits  of  the  Turks  many  of  them  recovered  from  it, 
and  were  enabled  to  return  afterwards  to  the  lines. 

To  give  readers  some  idea  of  the  nervousness 
which  the  scourge  excited  in  men's  minds,  I  may 
mention  that  at  the  Pera  Club  there  sat  one  silent 
man,  a  doctor,  who  had  that  morning  been  at  his 
station  attending  hundreds  of  patients  as  they 
arrived  by  train. 

"  I  have  been  disinfected,"  he  said,  "  and  one  needs 
to  be,  working  amongst  this  class  of  patients." 

The  doctor  was  a  well-known  Englishman,  and 
I  discussed  with  him  the  reports  which  were  flying 
about  with  reference  to  the  inadequate  medical  attend- 
ance at  many  of  the  military  hospitals. 

Incidentally  he  invited  me  to  drive  with  him  to 


CHOLERA   AMONG   THE   TURKS     251 

one  of  the  hospitals  near  the  end  of  the  Golden  Horn. 
He  said  I  could  then  form  my  own  opinions  as  to 
whether  the  reports  had  been  exaggerated  or  not. 
Accepting  the  invitation,  we  proceeded  to  the  hospital, 
and  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  testify  that  I  found  the 
patients  were  being  well  attended  to  by  a  full  staff 
of  Turkish  military  doctors,  and  that  everything  was 
being  done  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  wounded 
and  dead.  I  was  convinced  therefore  that  many  of 
the  rumours  which  had  been  circulated  were  without 
any  foundation. 

While  referring  to  the  ravages  of  cholera,  I  may 
also  recall  the  fact  that  in  company  with  my  friend 
Bennett  I  paid  a  visit  to  Stamboul,  with  the  object  of 
seeing  how  the  wounded  and  cholera  cases  were  being 
treated  on  their  arrival  there. 

On  our  way  to  the  city,  which  we  reached  by 
way  of  the  ferry  from  Galata,  we  saw  striking  evi- 
dences of  the  results  of  the  panic-stricken  retreat 
from  Thrace  and  the  surrounding  country. 

Vast  numbers  of  refugees  were  pouring  into  the 
city,  to  seek  behind  the  Tchatalja  lines  an  asylum  free 
from  the  dread  of  the  oncoming  Bulgarian  army. 
These  huge  migratory  hordes  included  starving  and 
disorganised  soldiery,  panic-stricken  peasants,  and 
merchants  from  the  larger  towns.  Many  of  them, 
while  passing  through  in  their  headlong  flight,  must 
have  come  in  contact  with  the  great  and  ever-increas- 
ing cholera  camps  and  become  more  or  less  infected 
with  this  dread  pestilence,  which  caused  the  mosques 


/ 


252     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

to  be  overcrowded  with  cases.  These  sacred  edifices 
were  frequently  used  as  hospitals,  and  as  places  of 
shelter  for  the  wounded  as  well  from  the  ravages  of 
the  wintry  climate. 

As  there  appears  to  be  no  little  curiosity  with 
reference  to  cholera  and  its  intimidating  effect  upon 
the  people  of  the  countries  in  which  outbreaks  occur, 
it  may  be  of  interest  to  explain  that,  although  it  is 
so  much  dreaded  by  those  who  are  brought  first  in 
contact  with  it,  the  feeling  gradually  dies  away,  the 
prevailing  impression  being  that  everybody  but  the 
individual  himself  might  fall  a  victim  to  it. 

As  an  illustration  of  this  fact  I  might  mention 
that  a  party  of  correspondents  would  sit  round  a 
table  discussing  the  war  generally,  and  when  the 
outbreaks  of  cholera  were  referred  to  it  appeared 
that  some  of  them  had  just  returned  from  San 
Stefano,  where  the  cholera  hospitals  were  situated. 

One  of  them  said  that  he  had  reached  San  Ste- 
fano, which  is  a  suburb  of  Constantinople,  on  a 
stifling  summer  day.  Where  the  children  used  to 
play,  in  a  large  open  space,  the  dead,  dying,  and  sick 
were  lying.  Occasionally  there  was  to  be  seen  among 
them  a  squirming  movement  as  the  pangs  of  cholera 
gripped  and  twisted  the  muscles  of  the  bodies  with 
cramp.  A  grey  drawn  face  of  a  man  would  be 
momentarily  exposed,  to  indicate  the  fact  that  life 
was  ebbing  out  of  him. 

Sad  to  relate,  the  correspondent,  who  represented 
a  German  paper,  and  gave  me  the  particulars  of  his 


CHOLERA  AMONG  THE  TURKS  253 

visit,  died  from  cholera  himself  twenty-four  hours 
after  his  return  to  camp. 

When  I  look  back  and  consider  the  risks  we  all 
ran,  it  seems  marvellous  to  me  that  more  did  not 
take  the  infection.  It  appeared  then  to  be  scarcely 
possible  that  any  could  escape  from  it.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  many  of  the  correspondents,  including  my- 
self, had  a  mild  attack  somewhat  resembling  cholera, 
but  we  recovered  from  it  after  a  few  days. 

The  contempt  for  death  exhibited  by  my  col- 
leagues could  not  fail  to  excite  my  admiration.  I 
have  seen  them  riding  forth  daily  to  what  seemed 
likely  to  be  certain  death  as  cheerfully  as  if  they 
were  going  on  some  pleasure  excursion. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

REFUGEES   CAMPED   IN   STAMBOUL 

Taking  advantage  of  an  interval  in  the  fighting  at 
Tchatalja,  Bennett  and  I  agreed  to  explore  the  ancient 
walls  and  the  celebrated  water-systems  of  Stamboul. 
Passing  over  from  Galata  by  the  ferry,  we  screwed 
our  way  through  the  living  wall  of  refugees — a  long 
perspective  of  gaunt  hungry  men  and  women,  packed 
among  waggons  and  vehicles  of  every  kind.  Here 
and  there  was  a  thicket  of  cattle-horns,  while  mules 
and  horses  in  every  conceivable  attitude  gave  charac- 
teristic features  to  this  extraordinary  mass. 

Our  object  was  to  reach  the  railway  station,  but 
as  we  tried  to  walk  along  the  pavement  every  step 
revealed  prostrate  forms,  some  dead,  many  writhing 
and  moaning  in  dying  agonies,  amidst  unspeakable 
filth  and  exhalations  which  polluted  and  contaminated 
the  atmosphere.  Underfoot  were  puddles  of  slush,  in 
many  places  knee-deep,  breeding  fatal  bacteria,  which 
made  the  street  impassable  save  in  certain  places 
where  the  rough  paving-stones  formed  a  doubtful 
causeway.  At  such  places  you  had  to  reckon  with 
animals,  who  disputed  your  passage  most  effectively 
with  their  horns. 

In  this  short  journey  of  not  more  than  a  couple 
of  hundred  yards   we  lost   one   another   completely. 

'54 


REFUGEES  CAMPED  IN  STAMBOUL     255 

I  looked  in  vain  for  Bennett's  genial  smile  among 
that  crowd  of  troubled  faces.  Opposite  the  restaurant 
families  were  camped,  some  in  waggons,  others  in  an 
offensive  mixture  of  mud  and  decaying  matter  which 
covered  the  street.  When  we  met  again  afterwards 
we  went  by  devious  ways  to  a  restaurant  which  was 
situated  near  the  railway  station.  The  gate  of  the 
front  entrance  was  barred  and  further  secured  by 
wire. 

At  first  the  house  seemed  to  be  unoccupied,  and 
the  tables  and  benches  in  the  garden  were  entirely 
deserted.  Through  the  window  we  saw  and  were 
seen  by  the  proprietor,  who  came  out,  opened  the 
gate,  which  he  carefully  secured  behind  us,  and  ex- 
plained to  us  his  fear  that  the  sight  of  food  might 
prove  too  strong  for  the  crowds  outside  and  tempt 
them  to  break  into  the  restaurant.  The  blinds  were 
drawn  down,  so  as  to  conceal  us  from  the  hungry 
eyes  of  the  famishing  mob.  The  same  precautions 
were  observed  in  showing  us  out.  This  was  accom- 
plished by  taking  us  through  the  kitchens  and  out 
by  the  back  door. 

We  had  intended  visiting  the  celebrated  under- 
ground water-cisterns,  but  this  we  found  to  be  im- 
possible that  day  on  account  of  the  heavy  rain.  We 
therefore  worked  our  way  back  to  the  ferry,  and  the 
invigorating  breezes  of  the  Bosphorus  cleared  our 
lungs  of  the  foul  pestilential  air  of  Stamboul. 

This  dark  and  dismal  picture  of  human  misery, 
reaching  ;^down  to  the  lowest  depths,  will  never  be 


256     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

erased  from  my  mind.  That  these  terrible  scenes 
and  experiences  did  not  produce  serious  outbreaks 
and  inroads  upon  private  property,  proved  the 
respect  which  the  Turks  have  for  law  and  order, 
and  for  the  philosophy  with  which  they  regard 
calamities.  What  impressed  me  more  than  any- 
thing else  was  the  display  of  human  sympathy  and 
the  charity  shown  by  them  to  their  more  unfor- 
tunate fellow-countrymen,  even  when  they  were 
Christians.  The  spontaneous  timely  help  given  by 
people  who  were  themselves  badly  off  was  worth 
more  than  organised  systems  of  charity. 

Somehow  or  other  the  refugees  were  fed  and 
assisted  to  the  greatest  possible  extent.  There  was 
no  railing  against  circumstances,  and  no  impious  blas- 
phemies. Surely  the  savour  of  that  piteous,  patient 
endurance,  bowing  low  to  the  will  of  the  Almighty, 
was  a  silent  prayer  wafted  heavenward  to  the  steps 
of  the  throne  of  the  God  of  Justice  and  Mercy. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE   TCHATALJA   LINES  OF  DEFENCE 

The  great  centre  of  interest  in  the  campaign  was 
the  determined  struggle  at  Tchatalja,  where  Turkey 
made  her  last  stand  behind  the  formidable  lines  which 
are  a  monument  to  British  genius  and  talent.  They 
were  designed  by  the  late  Baker  Pasha, 

The  position  is  naturally  strong,  as  a  range  of  roll- 
ing hills  dominate  the  intervening  plain.  Generally 
speaking,  the  Bulgarian  army  occupied  the  mountains 
vis-a-vis.  The  lines  were  further  strengthened  from 
the  sea.  At  Biyuk  Chekmeje,  the  guns  of  the 
battleships  had  a  range  of  five  to  six  miles,  thus 
protecting  the  Turkish  left.  A  lake  and  a  morass 
added  to  the  difficulties  of  the  attack  from  this 
point.  The  right  was  equally  barred  by  large, 
shallow  lagoons  running  behind  the  forts  to  Hadem 
Keui,  Nazim  Pasha's  headquarters. 

It  will  be  seen  on  studying  the  map  that  the 
valley  of  Kara  Su  opens  out  towards  the  north-east. 
Consequently  the  enemy  could  not  find  any  good 
gun  positions,  and,  moreover,  the  whole  ground  was 
open  and  well  within  the  range  of  the  Turkish  guns. 

The   Ottomans  were  hard  at  work  on  advanced 

positions  which  ought  to  render  the  passage  of  the 

valley    practically    impossible.       From    Yenikeni    on 

257  R 


258     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  Black  Sea  to  Azditch  Tabja  the  country  is 
broken  and  wooded.  This  is  to  the  advantage  of 
the  Bulgarians.  There  is  a  stream  of  some  import- 
ance running  to  the  Biyuk  Chekmeje  Causeway. 
On  the  shoulders  of  the  hills  behind,  the  Bulgarians 
placed  their  artillery,  beyond  the  range  of  the  Turkish 
guns,  and  effectually  protected  from  the  fire  of  the 
ships  lying  out  in  the  Bay.  There  were  also  small 
villages  which  were  occupied  by  the  Bulgarian  troops. 

A  long  slope  running  from  the  village  of  Tchatalja 
provided  a  perfect  artillery  position.  Behind  this 
three  hundred  thousand  men  could  lie  concealed  in 
perfect  safety.  The  Turkish  position  of  the  lines 
at  Baghchetch  Tabja  was  exposed  to  a  concentrated 
fire.  It  was  important,  as  it  lay  on  the  railway, 
which  here  takes  a  sharp  curve. 

The  chart  will  enable  my  readers  to  clearly  grasp 
the  situation  and  to  follow  the  trend  of  events.  The 
first  feature  that  strikes  the  observer  is  the  line  of 
forts  or  redoubts  extending  from  Lake  Biyuk  Chekmeje 
on  the  left  wing  to  Dirkos  Lake,  which  is  separated 
from  the  Black  Sea  by  a  narrow  strip  of  sand. 

The  strength  of  the  position  can  be  seen  at  a 
glance.  Nature  itself  could  hardly  have  formed  a 
stronger  barrier.  It  is  the  landward  key  of  Constan- 
tinople. Generally  the  ground  slopes  down  to  a  valley 
through  a  stream,  the  Kara  Su,  which  meanders 
onward  and  empties  itself  into  the  Lake  Biyuk 
Chekmeje. 

The  only  chance  for  the  enemy  to  succeed  was 


TCHATALJA   LINES    OF   DEFENCE     259 

to  force  the  Turkish  centre.  For  ten  miles  a  line  of 
redoubts  covered  each  other,  while  rifle-pits  and  wire- 
netting  presented  an  impassable  barrier.  A  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  soldiers  under  Nazim  Pasha 
manned  these  works  and  defences  before  the  peace 
negotiations  were  commenced.  The  Bulgarian  guns 
had  been  previously  searching  them,  and  a  big  battle 
had  been  expected  at  any  time.  The  Turkish  army 
had  been  completely  reorganised,  and  bread  and  provi- 
sions of  all  kinds  were  plentiful.  When  I  was  there  the 
men  seemed  quite  happy  and  cheerful,  singing  and 
making  merry  notwithstanding  the  terrible  experiences 
they  had  previously  undergone.  It  is  a  striking  fact 
that  Turkey's  weakness  is  also  her  strength.  The 
recuperative  power  and  spirit  of  the  nation  is  little 
short  of  marvellous.  Kismet — the  watchword  of  the 
Islam  world — does  more  for  her  army  than  the  most 
systematised  methods  and  organisation  of  the  highly 
equipped  forces  of  the  big  European  Powers. 

I  am  not  advocating  the  adoption  of  happy-go-lucky 
methods,  but  I  am  convinced  that  with  the  benefit  of 
a  few  years'  rest  and  training  they  would  be  capable  of 
doing  anything. 

All  correspondents  had  been  ordered  to  proceed 
to  Constantinople,  but  the  order  was  obeyed  in  the 
spirit,  and  not  strictly  in  the  letter. 

Several  of  them  temporarily  pitched  their  camps 
at  Biyuk  Chekmeje,  and  from  the  hills  at  the  back 
of  the  village  a  fine  view  of  any  fighting  could  be 
seen. 


26o     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

The  operations  were  often  suspended  or  stopped 
entirely  owing  to  the  thick  sea-mists  which  rolled  in 
from  the  Sea  of  Marmora  and  enveloped  the  valleys. 

In  addition  to  riding  or  motoring,  one  could  hire 
a  tug-boat  at  a  most  exorbitant  price  and  cross  to 
Rodosto  on  the  Marmora,  and  watch  at  leisure  the 
battleships  firing  on  the  Bulgarian  position. 

Beyond  Biyuk  Chekmeje  the  more  enterprising 
representatives  of  the  press  were  continually  being 
stopped  whilst  endeavouring  to  get  past  the  line  of 
sentries.  In  some  cases  they  were  held  up,  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet,  until  the  officer  of  the  guard 
had  been  communicated  with.  Genial  smiles,  coffee, 
and  cigarettes  ended  what  might  otherwise  have  been 
serious  affairs. 

From  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake  the  Bulgarians 
commenced  a  tremendous  artillery  fire,  on  18th 
October,  on  the  Ottoman  defences,  to  which  Nazim 
Pasha  gallantly  replied.  The  big  guns  of  the  ships 
could  be  heard  above  the  general  din,  which  echoed 
even  in  the  streets  of  Constantinople. 

For  forty-eight  hours  the  fight  lasted,  but  the 
assault  was  finally  repulsed,  the  Ottomans  even  driving 
the  Bulgarians  out  of  their  trenches.  We  could  after- 
wards see  numbers  of  the  enemy's  dead  lying  about. 
This  victory  marked  the  turning  of  the  tide.  It  gave 
confidence  to  Nazim's  army.  If  Europe  kept  the 
ring,  it  was  believed  that  after  all  the  Turks  would 
have  a  sporting  chance  of  rolling  back  the  invaders. 


.W,-  Ji-^f 


'■t%^  ^-^ '''' 


,...-^ 


«■/* 


i^/(<i    ^ 


.j/rt"*"' 


fr..'^  7' 


^ 


^e 


J^. 


Nazim  Pasha  and  Staff 


rr-'^.'i 


is^Oi*- 


*J-'^# 


,   /'a./la    „»,(  .v.'.,/ 


r 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   BATTLE   OF   TCHATALJA 

The  route  from  Fort  Gjaur  Bajiir  along  the  line  to 
Derkos  was  enveloped  in  smoke  and  flame.  The 
Bulgarian  forces  were  pressing  a  heavy  attack  on 
Nazim's  centre,  and  the  fate  of  Constantinople  hung 
in  the  balance.  Shrapnel  shells  were  bursting  high 
overhead,  and  the  big  common  shell  dug  up  the 
ground  round  the  base  of  the  fortresses.  The  attack 
commenced  with  a  heavy  rifle  and  Maxim  fire.  The 
continuous  shots  from  the  rifles  sounded  like  the  crack- 
ling of  a  fire  of  dry  wood,  while  in  addition  there  was 
the  tut !  tut !  tut !  of  the  Maxims  marking  time. 

The  battle  of  Tchatalja  had  begun.  The  enemy 
had  been  feeling  his  way  with  a  good  deal  of  inde- 
pendent firing  and  an  occasional  salvo  of  artillery. 
The  steady  roar  of  the  guns  which  covered  the 
advance  and  pounded  the  Turkish  forts  made  it 
impossible  to  communicate  except  by  signals.  The 
whole  air  was  filled  with  the  sounds  of  battle,  and 
the  passage  of  the  big  shells  cut  the  atmosphere  like 
the  crashing  of  a  railway  train  through  a  tunnel. 
Mingled  with  these  crashes  were  the  weird  shrieks 
and  the  prolonged  screams  and  howls  of  the  smaller 
shells.    The  awful  din  went  on  with  little  intermission 

for    two   days    and    nights.      The    scene    resembled 

361 


262     TWO  YEAKS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

that  of  an  Inferno,  while  the  strong  bars  of  light 
from  the  projector  of  the  fort  showed  the  eddying 
smoke  torn  by  the  passage  of  missiles.  The  deadly 
shrapnel  burst  like  venomous  curved  arrows  of  flame, 
shrouded  by  smoke  of  a  dull  orange  colour. 

All  day  the  wounded  came  in — some  crawling, 
and  some  being  supported  by  comrades.  Horsemen 
rode  practically  across  the  deadly  zone,  and,  wonder- 
ful to  relate,  got  through  without  many  casualties, 
although  at  times  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  a  fly  could 
not  have  lived  amongst  that  hurricane  of  missiles. 

I  took  advantage  of  the  lulls  to  jump  up  and  take 
a  rapid  glance  of  the  battle-field.  This  was  not  by 
any  means  safe,  owing  to  the  bursting  of  the  shells. 
Many  of  them  did  not  burst,  but  scooped  a  long 
trench  in  the  soft  ground.  I  noticed  one  man  with 
blood  trickling  down  his  cheeks  from  a  wound  in  the 
temple.  I  do  not  think  that  he  was  even  aware  of  his 
injury. 

One  thing  was  very  noticeable,  and  that  was  the 
bobbing  up  of  heads — a  very  natural  movement,  but 
quite  useless  as  a  precaution. 

You  heard  a  quick  whistle,  a  sort  of  savage 
whisper  as  the  bullet  sped  by.  There  was  always  a 
feeling  of  nervousness.  I  experienced  it  at  first, 
but  this  passed  off  as  excitement  and  enthusiasm 
blazed  in  your  heart.  At  times,  indeed,  one  revelled 
in  it.  There  was  a  companionship  in  it  which  is 
indescribable. 

Comrades !  what  a  world  of  meaning  it   conveys 


THE    BATTLE    OF   TCHATALJA     263 

to  men  in  such  thrilling  circumstances.  Every 
soldier  seems  to  be  like  a  brother.  Your  blood  thrills 
through  your  pulses  with  mad  excitement.  Surely 
there  is  nothing  more  awe-inspiring  or  more  terrible 
th-an  war. 

It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  Bulo^arians  are  a 
very  courageous  race  of  men,  and  they  were  all 
heroes  that  day.  Cannon  to  the  right  of  them, 
cannon  in  front  of  them  volleyed  and  thundered. 
At  one  time  it  appeared  as  if  they  would  win  some 
of  the  Turkish  positions.  But  the  steady,  well- 
directed  fire  of  the  Ottoman  guns  first  checked  and 
finally  dispersed  them.  They  had  shot  their  bolt, 
and  they  retired  behind  the  shelter  of  their  own 
batteries. 

What  lives  it  must  have  cost  them !  We  shall 
probably  never  know  what  terrible  losses  they  sus- 
tained at  Tchatalja,  but  I  should  think  that  at  least 
one-fourth  of  that  magnificent  attacking  force  were 
placed  hors  de  combat. 


y 


CHAPTER  XX 

BETWEEN  CONSTANTINOPLE  AND  HADEM  KEUI 

On  my  return  to  Constantinople  from  the  lines  at 
Tchatalja  the  air  seemed  lighter,  and  a  general  sense 
of  relief  pervaded  the  city.  The  windows  of  our  club 
overlooked  the  garden  of  the  American  Embassy, 
where  "  Jack  "  was  having  the  time  of  his  life. 

I  treasure  happy  memories  of  the  hospitalities  I 
received  at  the  club,  which  was  perhaps  the  most 
cosmopolitan  in  the  world.  The  members  were  of 
all  nationalities,  and  they  mingled  together  with 
the  greatest  good  fellowship  and  harmony. 

I  call  attention  to  the  peculiar  fact  that  we 
all  seemed  to  gravitate  to  the  tables  specially  used 
by  our  distinct  nationalities — English,  French,  and 
German,  the  Americans  and  Englishmen  generally 
fraternising  together.  The  English  table  was  a  large 
one,  but  there  always  appeared  to  be  room  at  it  for 
one  more,  possibly  owing  to  the  fact  that  it  was  a 
circular  table. 

The    cuisine   was    excellent   and   the    menu   was 

varied.     Roumanian  wine,    white    and   red,    adorned 

the  centre  of  the  table  in  small  decanters,  and  was 

included    with    the    lunch.      A    right    merry    party 

assembled  every  day,  and   all  the  news  relating  to 

the  war  was  discussed  in  the  interval. 

264 


CONSTANTINOPLE— HADEM    KEUI     265 

There  was  naturally  much  sympathy  with  the 
Turks  in  their  various  misfortunes  at  the  front,  but 
no  fears  appeared  to  be  entertained  as  to  any 
massacre  in  the  event  of  the  Bulgarians  achieving 
further  victories 

One  disaster  after  another  was  reported.  First 
Monastir  fell,  then  the  Greeks  captured  Salonica. 
The  Dardanelles  were  even  threatened. 

Among  those  I  met  at  the  club  was  Lord  Brooke, 
who  has  seen  active  service  and  who  takes  a  keen 
practical  interest  in  all  military  operations.  He 
came  out  to  Constantinople  with  the  object,  if 
possible,  of  becoming  an  extra  military  attache,  but 
as  there  was  no  available  opportunity,  he  hired  a 
tug-boat  and  visited  several  well-known  ports  in  the 
Sea  of  Marmora  which  the  enemy  were  endeavouring 
to  capture. 

He  attempted  to  land  at  Bodoski,  but,  fortunately 
for  him,  his  companions  persuaded  him  to  desist, 
for  it  was  discovered  that  the  Bulgarians  were  in 
possession.  They  afterwards  set  fire  to  the  manu- 
facturing part  of  the  town.  From  the  vessel  he 
could  easily  see  the  battle  in  progress  by  the  light 
of  the  bursting  shells. 

On  one  occasion  he  collected  a  party  of  six  or 
eight  with  the  object  of  visiting  Derkos.  The  pa.rty 
consisted  of  Major  North,  H.  Barber,  "  the  aerial 
expert,"  Captain  Bettleheim,  Mr.  Bennett  and  myself. 
We  were  in  two  motor  cars,  and  Lord  Brooke 
led   the  way,  giving  us  instructions  to  follow  close 


266     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

at  his  heels  Our  auto  was  unable  to  keep  up  with 
the  other  car,  and  when  we  reached  the  gate  we 
were  promptly  stopped  by  the  officer  in  charge.  He 
tried  every  argument  and  even  threats  to  prevent 
us  from  proceeding,  and  we  can  only  admit  that 
he  did  his  duty.  Major  North  was  terribly  dis- 
appointed, as  he  was  due  to  leave  in  a  couple  of 
days,  and  this  was  the  only  opportunity  he  had  to 
visit  the  lines. 

We  turned  the  car  round  and  drove  to  the  War 
Office,  where  I  obtained  a  special  pass  which  acted 
as  an  open  sesame. 

We  then  passed  through  the  gate,  and  proceeded 
for  the  first  five  miles  at  a  snail's  pace  through  multi- 
tudes of  the  most  motley  and  picturesque  refugees ; 
they  had  been  waiting  there  for  some  days  until 
the  crowds  at  Stamboul  had  been  shipped  off  to 
Syria.  In  all  the  cemeteries  that  we  passed,  crowds 
were  camped  among  the  gravestones,  sheltered  by 
the  melancholy  Cyprus.  Tombstones  were  put  to 
all  manner  of  uses.  The  place  looked  almost  like 
a  fair-ground,  and  pedlars  and  petty  traders  did 
a  fine  business  in  disposing  of  provisions.  A  man 
was  there  selling  bread,  and  another  was  vending 
vegetables.  The  water  merchants  were  also  very 
busy. 

The  wells  along  the  road  were  few  and  far  between, 
and  were  always  crowded.  In  some  cases  people  had 
spent  all  their  energy  in  crawling  to  the  water, 
but   they  had  not   sufficient   strength   left   to   draw 


CONSTANTINOPLE— HADEM  KEUI    267 

it  when  they  reached  it.  There  were  also  wounded 
soldiers,  trains  of  pack  animals  going  and  returning, 
and  buffalo  carts  led  by  strange-looking  men  and 
women  in  costumes  which  might  have  illustrated  some 
of  the  stories  in  the  Arabian  Nights. 

At  last  we  seemed  to  have  a  fairly  clear  run. 
The  long  weary  procession  was  breaking  up  into  de- 
tached groups.  I  wish  some  of  my  motoring  friends 
could  have  seen  the  road  along  which  we  were 
running.  In  places  there  was  a  new  layer  of  sharp 
stones  admirably  suited  for  tyre  puncturing;  there 
was  another  section  which  resembled  the  furrows  of 
a  field.  The  lively  motor  danced  and  jumped  about 
until  we  arrived  within  a  thousand  yards  of  the 
railway  station. 

A  picturesque  Turkish  bridge  spanned  a  creek, 
and  as  something  went  wrong  with  the  car,  we 
came  to  a  dead  halt.  It  was  a  bad  prospect  for 
our  Derkos  expedition,  for  we  still  had  to  cover 
twenty  miles. 

The  chauffeur  and  part  owner  of  the  car  posi- 
tively refused  to  go  farther,  and,  on  examination,  it 
appeared  that  the  defective  part  of  the  car  had  been 
broken  before,  and,  like  most  Turkish  repairs  of  the 
kind,  it  had  been  hastily  and  temporarily  mended 
with  wire. 

We  all  admitted  that  we  made  sorry  figures 
sitting  on  the  road-side  with  a  dismantled  car.  But 
we  were  encouraged  by  a  happy  thought.  Why 
not  use  the  interval  in  preparing  and  taking  lunch? 


268     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Old  Tokatlian  had  carefully  provided  for  us  bread, 
butter,  cheese,  cold  meats  and  fruit,  with  a  couple 
of  bottles  of  red  Koumanian. 

During  lunch  we  heard  the  sound  of  an  engine 
somewhere.  Barber  said  at  once,  "  That's  a  Gnome 
engine,"  and  we  followed  the  sound  eagerly.  As  we 
proceeded  the  ground  suddenly  dipped,  and  we  came 
suddenly  upon  a  garage. 

A  Bristol  aeroplane  was  outside  ready  for  flight, 
while  there  were  several  more  in  the  garage.  The 
aeroplane  men  welcomed  us  very  cordially,  and  were 
overjoyed  when  they  knew  the  qualifications  of  Mr. 
Barber.  He  looked  over  the  "Bristol"  outside,  and 
pointed  out  one  or  two  trifling  defects,  which  he 
said  he  could  put  right  in  a  couple  of  hours.  I 
made  a  sketch  of  him  seated  at  the  steerage  wheel, 
but  no  ascent  was  possible  because  one  of  the  cylinders 
required  repacking,  and  the  wings  were  slightly 
damaged. 

They  oflered  us  anything  in  the  way  of  material 
or  tools  that  we  required  to  repair  the  car.  The 
lateness  of  the  day  prevented  us  from  making  our 
intended  journey.  If,  as  the  chaufleur  said,  we  could 
only  get  back  to  Constantinople  we  should  be  quite 
satisfied. 

We  afterwards  reached  Pera  in  our  car  without 
any  incident  or  trouble. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

CONSTANTINOPLE  AND   ADRIANOPLE 

The  increasing  rumours  emanating  from  Stamboul, 
with  reference  to  the  feeling  of  the  Moslems  against 
the  Christians,  caused  the  Powers  to  take  the  pre- 
caution of  landing  detachments  of  sailors  from  the 
various  ships  to  guard  their  Embassies. 

The  United  States  Government  had  invited  the 
British  authorities  to  look  after  their  Embassy,  and 
to  protect  their  officers  as  well  as  the  American  resi- 
dents in  the  event  of  their  being  placed  in  jeopardy. 

The  American  officials  exerted  themselves  to  make 
the  British  bluejackets  thoroughly  at  home.  They 
placed  their  lawn-tennis  ground  at  their  disposal, 
and  very  soon  it  was  converted  into  a  football 
field. 

A  few  steps  from  the  asphalted  lawn-tennis  court 
led  into  a  beautiful  garden,  tastefully  laid  out  with 
a  rich  variety  of  flowers.  In  great  contrast  to  the 
parterres,  the  sailors'  rifles  were  piled  on  the  paths, 
and  the  sentries  were  marching  up  and  down  ready 
at  any  moment  to  give  the  alarm  should  the  emer- 
gency arise. 

It  was  interesting  to  note  the  splendid  arrange- 
ments  made   to  communicate  with  the    ships   lying 

in   the  Bosphorus.     At  the  end  of  the  garden  was 

269 


270     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

a  species  of  pavilion,  from  the  window  of  which  they 
could  communicate  with  the  signalman  as  he  stood 
on  the  roof  of  the  British  Embassy  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  distant. 

The  British  Embassy  was  thus  easily  converted 
into  a  means  of  communication  between  the  American 
Embassy  and  the  British  ships  in  the  harbour.  There 
was  a  larger  force  of  officers  and  men  in  the  British 
Embassy  than  in  the  United  States  official  building, 
and,  when  passing  the  gate  of  the  British  Embassy, 
Jack  could  be  seen  whiling  away  his  time  either  with 
football,  rackets,  or  in  short  drills. 

The  dip-nified  habitues  of  that  aristocratic  centre 
of  the  city  sometimes  condescended  to  stop  at  the 
gates  of  the  Embassy  to  watch,  and  perhaps  to 
admire,  the  infectious  liveliness  of  the  British  tars 
at  play. 

The  other  foreign  Embassies  were  guarded  in 
a  like  manner  by  landing-parties  from  their  own 
ships. 

I  visited  the  sailors'  quarters  and  found  that  they 
lived  in  the  kitchen  at  the  American  Embassy, 
and  in  outside  buildings,  sleeping  in  their  clothes 
on  the  floor.  As  the  marble  flooring  was  too  cold 
and  hard  for  such  purposes,  it  had  been  covered  with 
boards.  The  officer  in  charge  took  me  over  his 
quarters  in  the  guard-room.  They  consisted  of  a 
wash-house  and  a  small  space  about  the  size  of  an 
ordinary  ship's  cabin.  The  officer  slept  on  the  floor, 
and  the  bugler  slept  on  a  raised  bench  near  at  hand, 


CONSTANTINOPLE— ADRIANOPLE     271 

and,  in  case  of  a  sudden  alarm,  the  warning  call  could 
be  sounded  immediately.  On  one  occasion  there  was 
a  false  alarm,  and  in  one  minute  and  a  half  the  whole 
guard  were  under  arms  and  in  the  street,  only  to 
find  that  they  had  been  called  out  for  an  insignificant 
reason. 

I  have  been  told  that  the  British  sailors,  when  they 
disembarked  at  Galata,  used  the  stratagem  of  landing 
their  Maxims  in  the  guise  of  patients  lying  in  cots, 
and  thus  added  to  the  feeling  of  security  of  every- 
body concerned.  Their  appearance  added  greatly  to 
the  life  and  interest  of  the  streets  of  Pera,  and 
wherever  they  went  they  were  well  received  by  the 
Turks. 

As  Constantinople  is  almost  certain  to  figure 
prominently  in  the  operations  which  have  been  re- 
newed as  the  result  of  the  breakdown  of  the  peace 
negotiations  in  London,  it  may  be  of  interest  to 
readers  to  give  them  some  idea  of  that  famous 
city. 

The  capital  is  situated  on  a  promontory  which 
is  studded  with  seven  low  hills,  and  is  surrounded 
on  the  north  by  the  Golden  Horn,  on  the  east  by 
the  Bosphorus,  and  on  the  south  by  the  Sea  of 
Marmora. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  Golden  Horn  lie  the 
suburbs  of  Galata,  Pera,  Tophane,  Kasim  Pasha,  &c. 
Scutari  and  Kadikoi,  which  may  also  be  regarded 
as  suburbs,  are  on  the  Asiatic  coast  east  of  the 
Bosphorus.      The   suburb    of  Sweet    Waters,    which, 


272     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

with  its  beautiful  meadow  valleys,  is  a  favourite 
resort  for  the  Turkish  women  on  Fridays,  is  situated 
at  the  northern  end  of  the  Golden  Horn  where  the 
inlet  narrows. 

Near  it  is  the  summer  palace  of  the  Sultan, 
while  the  suburb  of  Eyub,  which  is  also  on  the 
north  side  of  the  Golden  Horn,  and  is  called  after 
the  Lieutenant  of  the  Prophet,  contains  a  sacred 
mosque,  in  which  is  preserved  the  sword  of  Osman, 
the  founder  of  the  Empire  of  the  Osmanli  or  Ottoman 
Turks.  It  is  with  this  sword  that  each  Sultan  invests 
himself  on  his  accession  to  the  throne,  the  ceremony 
being  equivalent  to  the  coronation  of  other  sovereigns. 

The  European  ambassadors  reside  in  the  summer 
in  palatial  buildings  running  along  the  European 
shore  of  the  Bosphorus.  The  British  Embassy  is 
situated  on  a  most  picturesque  site  amid  well- 
wooded  grounds  rising  up  from  the  sea. 

Constantinople  proper  is  surrounded  by  walls, 
the  Theodosian  walls  on  the  land  side  forming  a 
triple  circumvallation.  Of  the  twenty-nine  gates 
the  most  remarkable  one  is  the  Top-Kapussi  or 
Cannon  Gate.  The  most  famous  of  the  public  squares 
is  the  At-Meidan  or  Square  of  the  Horses. 

Among  the  many  mosques  the  most  important  is 
that  of  St.  Sophia,  one  of  the  finest  works  of  Byzan- 
tine art.  It  was  built  by  Justinian  on  the  site  of  a 
church  erected  by  Constantine  the  Great,  after  whom 
Constantinople  is  named,  and  dedicated  to  "  Eternal 
Wisdom."     Its  fine  columns,  lavish  decorations,  and 


CONSTANTINOPLE— ADRIANOPLE     273 

beautiful  mosaics  give  it  an  appearance  of  rich 
magnificence.  It  has  a  most  impressive  effect  on 
all  who  visit  it. 

Altogether  there  are  800  mosques  in  the  city, 
of  which  formerly  twenty  were  Christian  churches. 
There  is  a  Bulgarian  as  well  as  a  Greek  cathedral 
in  the  city.  The  principal  palace  is  the  old  Serai, 
which  occupies  the  whole  of  the  south-east  point  of 
Constantinople,  and  is  flanked  by  a  crenellated 
turreted  wall. 

It  is  the  unique  situation  of  the  city  which  makes 
it  the  principal  mart  of  the  Levant,  and  it  has  the 
further  advantage  that  it  is  connected  by  rail,  via 
Belgrade  and  Sofia,  with  the  central  European  rail- 
way system. 

It  may  not  be  generally  known  that  conscription 
has  obtained  in  Turkey  since  1880.  The  total  period 
of  the  service  is  from  twenty  to  forty  years  of  age. 
The  army  is  divided  into  seven  army  corps,  and  in 
time  of  war,  as  at  present,  a  million  men  can  be 
put  in  the  field 

Notwithstanding  the  more  or  less  serious  reverses 
sustained  by  the  Turks,  it  will  thus  be  seen  that 
the  Sublime  Porte  can  call  upon  immense  reserves 
if  it  has  to  fight  for  its  very  existence  as  a  European 
Power. 

With  soldiers  who  have  been  justly  famed  for 
their  great  military  qualities,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that,  with  skilful  generals  and  properly  or- 
ganised   and    efficient    transport    and    commissariat 


274     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

arrangements,  they  could  prolong  the  war  to  a 
very  considerable  extent,  especially  if  they  had  more 
time  to  remedy  the  serious  defects  which  have  been 
discovered  in  the  working  of  their  military  system. 

Adrianople  is  of  only  secondary  interest  and  im- 
portance in  the  eyes  of  the  Turks  to  Constantinople, 
and  the  Bulgarians  and  Servians  have  been  making 
desperate  efforts  to  capture  the  city.  The  main 
interest  of  Adrianople  is  derived  from  the  fact  that 
it  contains  famous  mosques,  including  that  which  was 
built  by  the  Sultan  Selim  II.  Other  features  of  great 
interest  are  the  Serai,  or  palace,  and  the  bridge 
Michael,  built  by  Byzantine  Emperors,  and  a  large 
bazaar. 

The  name  of  the  city  dates  from  the  second 
century,  when  the  Emperor  Hadrian  enlarged  and 
beautified  the  town,  which  has  been  called  after  his 
name.  It  was  the  capital  of  the  Ottoman  Empire 
until  1453,  before  Constantinople  had  been  captured 
by  the  Turks.  It  was  occupied  by  the  Russians  in 
1829,  and  it  was  there,  in  September  1st  of  that  year, 
that  the  treaty  of  Adrianople  was  signed  which 
concluded  the  war  between  Russia  and  Turkey.  The 
town  was  also  besieged  by  the  Russians  in  the  war 
of  1877. 

Situated  in  a  flat  country  where  three  rivers  meet 
— the  Maritza,  the  Tunja,  and  the  Arda — it  can  be 
easily  understood  how  seriously  the  rising  of  the 
rivers  might  have  hampered  the  hemming  in  of  the 
fortress  by  the  Bulgarians  and  the  Servians. 


CONSTANTINOPLE— ADRIANOPLE     275 

The  strongest  defences  are  those  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  Maritza,  but  the  hills  to  the  east  and 
north-east  of  the  town  are  also  crowned  with 
substantial  works. 

The  difficulties  of  the  Allies  have  been  increased 
by  the  fact  that  all  the  roads  converge  upon  the 
town,  and  that  there  are  practically  no  lateral  routes 
to  assist  their  army.  Notwithstanding  this  fact, 
many  of  the  Turkish  outworks  have  been  reduced 
to  heaps  of  ruins,  and  the  Bulgarians  secured  other 
successes  which  gave  rise  to  unfounded  reports  of  the 
capture  of  the  city.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that 
the  Servians  who  relieved  the  Bulgarians  in  the  siege, 
drew  closer  and  closer  to  the  city,  and  that  the 
original  garrison  was  very  largely  reduced. 

In  such  tragic  circumstances  the  final  fate  of 
Adrianople  naturally  provided  abundant  food  for 
speculation  and  reflection  in  international  circles. 
True  to  their  military  instincts  and  regulations,  the 
Turks  made  a  heroic  defence,  which,  in  many  respects, 
reminds  students  of  the  history  of  their  indomitable 
defence  of  Plevna. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

SOME  DISTINGUISHED  YOUNG  TURKS 

No  book  dealing  with  the  position  and  fortunes  of 
the  Ottoman  forces  could  be  considered  to  be  com- 
plete which  did  not  refer  to  the  most  daring  leaders 
in  the  Young  Turk  party.  Among  those  who  have 
figured  most  prominently  in  the  evolution  of  events 
preceding  and  following  the  first  portion  of  the  war 
with  the  Allies,  which  led  up  to  the  Peace  Conference 
in  London,  is  Neshet  Bey. 

This  gallant  General  defended  Tripoli  against  the 
Italians,  until  the  increasing  difficulties  and  the 
imminence  of  the  outbreak  of  war  in  the  Balkans 
compelled  the  Porte  to  conclude  peace  with  the 
Italians.  He  then  returned  to  Constantinople  with 
his  brave  and  distinguished  staff  of  officers,  and  they 
have  had  to  be  reckoned  with  in  later  struggles. 
Although  small  in  numbers,  they  represent  an  im- 
portant and  inspiriting  element  in  the  protection  of 
the  country. 

Other  distinguished  officers  are  Fethi  Bey,  the 
able  chief  of  the  staff  to  Neshet  Bey,  Ismail  Hakki, 
Tahar  Bey,  and  Djoe  Bey. 

Perhaps,   however,   the   most    conspicuous    of  the 

Young    Turks    is    Enver    Bey,    who    has    become    a 

popular  leader,  and  deservedly  so,    A  dashing  soldier, 

276 


DISTINGUISHED   YOUNG   TURKS     277 

his  name  rings  from  one  end  of  Turkey  to  the  other. 
Bold  and  resourceful,  a  beau  sahreur,  he  has  revelled 
in  brave  deeds  and  heroic  exploits  in  the  defence 
of  his  country.  He  has  therefore  become  the  theme 
of  song  and  story  in  the  Islam  world. 

On  the  walls  of  the  Cafe  of  Stamboul  two 
portraits  are  conspicuous — the  Sultan  and  Enver 
Bey.  Unfortunately  I  did  not  have  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  Enver  when  in  Tripoli,  but  I  was  never- 
theless well  acquainted  with  his  brother  Hallal, 
the  gallant  defender  of  Khoms. 

When  stopping  at  Azizia,  General  Neshet  was  in 
constant  communication  with  Enver  Bey,  and  he  was 
loud  in  his  praises  of  his  subordinate  who  defended 
Dherna  in  Tripoli  against  tremendous  odds.  He 
it  was  who  trained  the  Arabs  in  the  art  of  modern 
warfare,  leading  them  in  person  against  Italian  armies 
numerically  superior  to  the  Turks  and  Arabs.  Time 
and  again,  and  always  with  success,  he  met  the 
enemy  and  proved  that  they  were  not  so  formidable 
as  many  people  had  supposed. 

This  is  the  man  who  was  considered  to  be  capable 
of  extricating  Turkey  from  her  later  difficulties,  for 
he  knows  no  fear,  and  it  is  generally  believed  that  he 
will  never  make  peace  on  dishonourable  terms. 

Enver  Bey's  efforts  and  aspirations  are,  very 
naturally,  discounted  and  derided  at  Sofia,  but  I 
should  like  to  hear  Enver's  version  before  deciding 
with  regard  to  their  intrinsic  merit. 

Many  experts  were  of  the  opinion  that  Turkey's 


278     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

best  plan  was  to  maintain  the  defensive,  and  to  wait 
for  the  chance  of  the  Balkan  League  coming  to 
grief  in  the  attempt  to  settle  their  disputes  with 
reference  to  the  division  of  the  captured  territory, 
or  for  the  interposition  of  one  or  more  of  the  great 
European  Powers. 

At  any  rate  it  was  the  general  feeling  among  the 
Moslems,  and  especially  among  the  Young  Turks,  that 
Turkey  as  a  nation  must  fight  the  quarrel  to  the 
bitter  end,  and,  after  all,  she  was  the  best  judge  of 
her  own  affairs.  If  both  sides  were  bluffing,  so  much 
the  better  for  the  Turks,  who  naturally  wanted  to 
save  as  much  as  possible  out  of  the  wreck. 

A  European  war  had  of  course  to  be  avoided. 
The  Powers  were  doing  all  in  their  power  to  prevent 
such  a  terrible  catastrophe,  but  if  it  eventuated,  it 
could  not  with  any  reason  or  justice  be  laid  at  the 
door  of  the  Turk.  A  "legitimate  ending"  of  the 
war  was  called  for,  but  the  question  was,  *'  What  is 
meant  by  the  expression  '  legitimate '  ?  " 

And  a  question  closely  linked  with  this,  as 
well  as  other  wars  that  may  take  place  in  the  near 
future,  is  with  reference  to  the  policy  to  be  adopted 
by  the  opposing  military  authorities  in  regard  to  the 
admission  of  war  artists  and  correspondents  to  the 
zone  of  operations. 

The  presence  of  knights  of  the  pencil  and  of 
members  of  the  Fourth  Estate  in  the  field  of  war- 
fare has  become  one  of  the  most  difficult  problems 
for   the   generals   in    command   to   solve.     In    times 


DISTINGUISHED   YOUNG   TURKS     279 

past  the  profession  of  the  war  artist  and  corre- 
spondent was  confined  practically  to  the  trained  crafts- 
men connected  with  the  Press,  and  on  the  whole  the 
public  and  the  newspapers,  illustrated  and  otherwise, 
were  served  admirably. 

But  nowadays  there  is  a  somewhat  regrettable 
tendency  to  permit  men  of  means  and  of  good  social 
position,  who  are  not  compelled  to  do  the  work  for 
the  sake  of  the  salaries  or  remuneration  which  would 
otherwise  be  paid  for  it,  to  come  into  competition 
with  the  professional  artist  and  correspondent,  and 
to  handicap  them  in  their  diflScult  occupation  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  place  them  altogether  at  a  dis- 
advantage. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

AEROPLANES  IN   WAR 

Two  new  factors  in  warfare  have  arisen  within  the 
last  few  years — airships  and  wireless  telegraphy — 
and  they  must  be  taken  into  serious  account  in 
future.  In  the  old  days  the  battle  areas  were 
measured  by  their  length  and  breadth,  but  now 
that  airships  have  been  brought  into  practical  use 
as  despatch-carriers  and  scouts,  and  even  for  attack- 
ing purposes  as  bomb-throwers,  the  field  of  operations 
has  been  extended  in  directions  not  hitherto  antici- 
pated even  by  the  most  successful  generals. 

The  value  of  aeroplanes  has  been  proved  both  in 
Tripoli  and  in  the  Balkans. 

The  boldest  pilots  of  airships  and  of  dirigibles  will 
play  most  prominent  parts  in  future  wars.  In  some 
countries  aerial  craft  are  becoming  almost  common 
objects,  and  only  those  which  provide  for  themselves 
well-trained  bodies  of  experienced  airmen  will  fully 
reap  the  great  value  of  such  a  service. 

The  island  nations  have  always  produced  the  best 
sailors,  and  it  is  obvious  that  those  which  encourage 
their  people  in  the  manufacture  and  manipulation 
of  aerial  machines  are  bound,  by  the  logic  of  events, 
not  only  to  effect  the  conquest  of  the  air,  but  also  to 

secure  leading  positions  among  the  great  Powers. 

280 


AEROPLANES    IN    WAR 


2»I 


France  and  Germany  have  been  spending  many 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  pounds  in  providing  them- 
selves with  aerial  machines  of  different  kinds,  and  it 
is  a  regrettable  fact  that  we  have  allowed  our  great 
neighbours  to  get  several  years'  start  of  us.  The 
result  is  that  they  have  fleets  of  aeroplanes  and 
dirigibles  with  which  we  cannot  possibly  compete, 
and  that  they  have  a  far  larger  number  of  experienced 
and  skilful  flying  men  than  we  can  call  upon  in  times 
of  need. 

The  faith  of  military  experts  in  the  use  of  air- 
craft in  warfare  has  been  increasing  rapidly.  Even 
Moltke,  the  great  organiser  of  victory  in  the  Franco- 
German  War  of  1870,  believed  strongly  in  their  great 
future  utility.  But  notwithstanding  the  enterprise 
shown  since  by  Continental  Powers  in  developing 
this  new  force,  this  country  unaccountably  still  lags 
behind  in  the  competition. 

The  erroneous  view  seems  to  be  entertained  in  this 
country  that  airships  can  be  built  and  used  at  short 
notice  and  at  any  time,  and  the  Government  appears 
to  be  more  inclined  to  wait  until  these  vessels  have 
been  proved  to  be  thoroughly  effective  than  to  follow 
the  example  of  other  Powers  in  training  airmen  in 
their  use  in  times  of  peace. 

It  was  the  same  policy  of  fatal  procrastination 
and  lack  of  preparation  that  produced  such  serious 
results  for  us  in  the  first  stage  of  the  war  in  South 
Africa,  and  although  the  daring  and  enterprising 
spirit  of  the  British  race  is  still  exemplified  in   the 


282     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

splendid  work  which  has  been  done  by  airmen  in  this 
country  as  individuals,  the  lack  of  official  financial 
support  and  encouragement  for  the  development  of 
flying  must,  sooner  or  later,  I  am  afraid,  have  serious 
consequences.  It  is  true  that  the  military  authorities 
have  been  doing  more  in  the  last  eighteen  months 
than  in  previous  years  to  encourage  aviation,  but 
when  comparison  is  made  between  them  and  foreign 
competitors  it  is  not  possible,  with  every  desire  to 
think  that  all  is  well  with  our  own  country,  to  live  in 
a  fools'  paradise,  or  to  hide  our  heads  in  the  sand, 
when  formidable  aerial  fleets  are  being  organised  and 
trained  with  such  efficiency  for  future  use  by  rival 
Powers. 

The  great  progress  achieved  by  makers  of  mono- 
planes has  brought  that  particular  kind  of  air-craft 
largely  to  the  front,  especially  since  Bldriot  made 
his  sensational  flight  with  it  across  the  English 
Channel  to  Dover.  The  fact  that  there  have  been  so 
many  fatalities  to  airmen  has  been  advanced  to  prove 
not  only  that  airships  are  impracticable  for  military 
or  naval  purposes,  but  that  even  if  reliable  vessels 
were  built,  the  weapons  now  used  by  the  land  and  sea 
forces  of  the  great  Powers  would  destroy  them. 

It  should  be  remembered,  however,  that  during 
the  last  seven  years  aeroplanes  have  been  made  with 
motors  giving  them  a  speed  of  over  sixty  miles  an 
hour,  while  their  range  of  action  has  been  extended 
to  about  a  thousand  miles.  With  a  rapid  improve- 
ment  which   has   amazed   everybody,    who   can    tell 


AEROPLANES   IN   WAR  283 

what  future  developments  such  air-craft  will  make 
during  the  next  few  years.  Many  of  the  dangers 
and  difficulties  arising  from  defects  in  the  machines 
have  been  minimised  by  improvements,  and  there  is 
now  a  large  and  increasing  balance  of  opinion  in 
favour  of  airships  being  made  practical  and  even 
invaluable  in  warfare. 

Disasters  in  the  future  as  in  the  past  must  be 
expected,  but  no  one  who  has  studied  the  use  that 
has  already  been  made  of  air-craft  in  campaigns  can 
doubt  their  great  utility  and  increasing  importance. 
The  fact  alone  that,  as  compared  with  battleships,  the 
cost  of  airships  is  comparatively  small,  should  have  a 
considerable  effect  in  encouraging  their  construction 
and  use  in  military  and  naval  operations. 

The  ability  of  the  monoplane  to  ascend  to  great 
heights  considerably  diminishes  the  danger  of  rifle- 
fire  against  it  as  a  rapidly  moving  object.  It  is  only 
when  there  are  motor  troubles,  or  there  are  other 
reasons  for  the  loss  of  ascensive  power,  that  such 
air-craft  are  liable  to  be  destroyed,  or  crippled,  or 
captured. 

The  greatest  danger,  of  course,  arises  from  the  use 
of  long-range  artillery  against  airships,  but  it  should 
be  remembered  that  although  the  projectiles  can 
easily  be  made  to  travel  the  required  distance,  it  is 
quite  another  matter  to  reach  them  when  flying  at 
such  a  great  pace,  even  with  high -angle  fire  and  con- 
stant changes  of  vertical  and  horizontal  direction. 
The  same  difficulties  would  apply   to  naval   vessels 


284    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

near  land,  for  they  could  not  use  their  big  guns 
against  air-craft  unless  they  sighted  them  far  out  at 
sea.  Airship  pilots  know  quite  well  that  if  they  can 
work  to  landward,  even  if  they  are  over  a  naval  base, 
the  guns  of  the  fleet  could  not  be  used  against  them 
without  fear  of  the  projectiles  and  shells  dropping  on 
the  harbour  works  and  stores,  or  on  the  town  and  its 
buildings.  The  use  of  fort  guns  against  air-craft 
must  also  be  circumscribed  by  the  fear  of  doing  injury 
to  the  fleet. 

The  time  has  obviously  therefore  come  when  ships 
of  the  air  must  be  accepted  as  a  recognised  force  for 
offensive  and  defensive  purposes.  The  great  Powers 
would  not  have  entered  upon  large  programmes  of 
airship  construction  had  they  not  fully  recognised  their 
vital  necessity  in  the  future.  With  such  quick  de- 
velopments and  improvements  as  are  possible  in  their 
construction,  they  may  be  expected  to  become  abso- 
lutely essential  in  times  of  war. 

We  cannot  afford  therefore,  in  the  words  of  Sir 
Hiram  Maxim,  to  hide  our  heads  in  the  sand  like  the 
ostrich  in  order  not  to  witness  what  is  going  on  in  other 
parts  of  the  world.  On  the  contrary,  we  should  accept 
the  situation  as  we  find  it.  The  flying-machine  has 
come,  and  come  to  stay,  whether  we  like  it  or  not. 

It  is  for  these  reasons  that  I  have  devoted  some 
space  to  the  consideration  of  this  important  subject. 
I  have  described  in  the  first  portion  of  this  work  the 
use  which  was  made  of  airships  by  the  Italians  in 
Tripoli. 


AEROPLANES   IN   WAR  285 

With  regard  to  the  war  in  the  Balkans,  less  use 
was  made  of  the  air-craft  than  in  Tripoli,  The  Turks, 
however,  appeared  to  find  them  very  useful  in 
locating  the  positions  and  movements  of  the  Allies 
at  the  Tchatalja  lines. 

Perhaps  the  most  striking  incident  that  came  to 
my  knowledge  was  that  connected  with  the  success 
of  a  Turkish  gunner,  who,  aiming  at  a  Bulgarian 
aeroplane,  the  pilot  of  which  was  taking  observations 
over  the  beleaguered  city  of  Adrianople,  brought  it 
to  earth  amid  the  rousing  cheers  of  the  Ottomans, 
with  the  result  that  the  machine  was  destroyed  and 
the  airman  was  killed  on  the  spot. 

The  Bulgarians  seemed  to  utilise  the  new  ships 
of  the  air  more  extensively  and  effectively  than  the 
Turks,  and  by  this  means  they  were  frequently  able 
to  discover  the  Ottoman  movements  and  spy  out 
the  weakness  of  their  lines  of  defence. 

In  my  opinion  the  neglect  of  organising  a  fleet 
of  aeroplanes  on  the  part  of  the  Turks  placed  them 
at  a  great  disadvantage  in  the  war,  and  convinced 
me  that  no  nation,  large  or  small,  can  afford  to 
ignore  the  tremendous  advantage  which  the  advance 
of  science  and  the  progress  made  in  the  conquest  of 
the  air  gives  to  that  Power  or  State  which  provides 
itself  with  a  well-organised  and  efficient  service,  in 
which  monoplanes,  biplanes,  or  dirigibles  can  play  a 
most  useful  part. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   MISUNDERSTOOD  TURK 

My  experiences  during  the  war  have  also  convinced 
me  that  there  has  been  a  vast  amount  of  misunder- 
standing and  lack  of  appreciation  with  regard  to 
the  Turk.  His  peculiar  characteristics  will  perhaps 
account  for  the  extraordinary  extent  to  which  he 
has  often  been  misrepresented.  His  fatalism,  his 
philosophy,  and  his  marvellous  endurance  under  the 
most  trying  circumstances,  as  exhibited  during 
the  wars  both  in  Tripoli  and  against  the  Allies, 
have  rendered  it  very  difficult  to  Western  minds 
to  fully  comprehend  his  nature  and  disposition. 
He  has  his  vices  as  well  as  his  virtues,  but,  so  far 
as  I  have  been  able  to  judge,  his  virtues  largely 
outweigh  his  vices,  which  have  undoubtedly  been 
grossly  exaggerated. 

In  a  few  words  he  may  be  described  as  brave, 
unselfish,  hospitable,  generous  as  well  as  pious,  gentle 
and  charitable ;  he  is  at  the  same  time  a  gentleman 
in  every  sense  of  the  word,  and  I  am  afraid  that 
many  advantages  have  been  taken  of  him  because  of 
his  possession  of  these  remarkable  characteristics. 

It  is  because  the  Turks  have  been  so  greatly 
misrepresented  that  I  venture  to  put  before  my 
readers   a   generous    appreciation    of   him   given    by 


THE   MISUNDERSTOOD   TURK        287 

a  Servian  gentleman,  and  it  is  only  one  of  many- 
similar  expressions  of  opinion  made  in  my  hearing. 

The  gentleman  to  whom  I  refer  used  words 
which  deserve  to  be  recorded,  as  they  appeared  in 
the  Pall  Mall  Gazette  on  the  29th  of  November, 
1912.     He  wrote: 

"  We  Servians  are  fighting  against  the  Turks 
with  all  our  might,  but  we  do  not  wish  to  be 
unjust  to  them.  I  am  perfectly  certain  that  every 
Servian  soldier,  marching  now  victoriously  through 
Macedonia  and  Albania,  and  every  wounded  Servian 
lying  somewhere  in  a  hospital,  and  every  Servian 
mother,  sister,  wife,  sweetheart,  who  has  lost  her  son, 
or  her  brother,  or  her  husband,  or  her  lover,  on  one 
of  the  many  bloody  battlefields,  would  applaud  my 
effort  to  do  justice  to  our  enemy.  And,  therefore, 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  a  good  word  for  the  Turk. 
I  do  homage  not  to  the  Turk,  but  to  the  truth. 

"  An  average  Turk — or  shall  I,  perhaps,  call  him 
a  normal  Turk? — is  an  excellent  man.  He  believes 
in  God,  and  prays  to  God  more  earnestly  and  more 
intensely  than  an  average  or  normal  Christian  does. 
And  he  persistently  and  honestly  tries  to  conform 
his  everyday  life  to  the  commandments  of  his  great 
Prophet.  He  is  charitable,  honest,  trustworthy ;  he 
is  modest,  yet  dignified  ;  he  is  proud,  but  not  vain ; 
he  is  brave,  but  not  boastful ;  he  is  sober,  clean, 
polite ;  he  is  generally  poor,  but  always  hospitable ; 
and  he  is  patriotic,  ready  to  starve  and  suffer  and 
die,  without  a  murmur,  for  his  faith  and  the  honour 


288     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

of  his  country.  But  this  excellent,  virtuous,  and 
God-fearing  brave  man  is  heavy,  slow,  and  somewhat 
stupid,  and  in  the  electrical  and  aeroplanic  twentieth 
century  cannot  stand  against  scientific  organisations 
and  quick-firing  guns  of  the  clever,  sharp-witted 
Greeks,  Servians,  and  Bulgars. 

"  The  Turk  was  the  master  of  the  Balkan  nations 
for  nearly  five  centuries.  During  all  those  centuries 
he  consistently  refrained  from  interfering  with  our 
national  churches  and  with  our  village  municipal  life. 
From  the  liberty  which  the  Turk  left  to  our  Church 
and  our  municipal  life  in  the  country,  our  political 
liberty  was  re-born.  But,  notwithstanding  his  re- 
ligious tolerance  and  his  non-interference  with  our 
village  life,  we  hated  him  as  long  as,  and  just  because, 
he  was  our  master.  But  now,  when  our  victories 
have  deprived  him  of  his  position  as  master  of  our 
countries,  we  will  be  pleased  to  have  him  for  our 
friend,  because — although  he  is  not  exactly  a  'jolly' 
— he  is  certainly  '  a  good  fellow.' " 

Many  attempts  have  been  made  to  explain  the 
diplomacy  of  Europe  with  regard  to  Turkey.  The 
attitude  of  the  Powers  towards  each  other  provides 
the  explanation  which  is  needed.  Like  Hal  o'  the 
Wynd,  they  have  been  all  working  for  their  own 
hand.  It  is  because  several  of  the  Powers  have  their 
own  axes  to  grind  that  they  are  so  often  prevented 
from  acting  in  union,  even  when  their  great  objective 
is  to  secure  the  retention  of  what  has  hitherto  been 
described  as  the  "  Buffer  of  Europe," 


now  THE  FOREIGN  ATTACHES  CROSSED  THE  lOKD  AT 
EUGENE  RIVER 


THE   MISUNDERSTOOD   TURK        289 

Some  light  on  the  unhappy  position  of  the  Moslems, 
so  far  as  the  European  Powers  are  concerned,  is  pro- 
vided by  Ameer  Ali,  who,  writing  to  the  Morning 
Post  on  the  subject,  expressed  himself  in  the  following- 
interesting  and  practical  manner : 

"  When  the  history  of  this  war,  now  entering  upon 
a  new  phase,  comes  to  be  written  in  an  atmosphere  less 
charged  with  racial  and  religious  prejudice,  the  tangle 
of  dubious  diplomacy  which  has  landed  a  Moslem 
state  in  the  direst  straits  will  probably  be  unravelled. 

"  International  ethics,  I  know,  have  undergone 
a  great  change  within  recent  years,  and  the  moral 
conscience  of  nations  and  individuals  alike  seems  to 
have  lost  much  of  its  sensitiveness.  The  atrocious 
savageries  perpetrated  on  the  Mussulman  population 
of  Macedonia  are  either  treated  with  absolute  in- 
difference or  passed  by  with  the  callous  remark  '  six 
of  the  one  and  half  a  dozen  of  the  other ' ;  and  the 
tribulations  of  a  brave  nation,  which  in  its  time 
did  vital  service  to  England,  only  elicit  jeers.  The 
Turkish  reply  to  the  Note  of  the  Powers,  pathetic 
in  its  dignity,  instead  of  rousing  sympathy,  only  calls 
forth  a  scornful  rebuke,  that,  having  conceded  so 
much,  Turkey  might  yield  up  more,  and  forego  the 
one  point  essential  equally  to  her  existence  and  her 
honour.  There  must  be  obliquity  of  moral  vision 
somewhere  to  justify  this  frame  of  mind. 

"The  military  collapse  of  Turkey  has  brought  nearer 
the  inevitable  conflict  between  Teuton  and  Slav,  and 
necessitates  an  immediate  increase  in  the  armies  of 

T 


290     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

Central  Europe.  Were  the  Powers  to  damage  Turkey 
equally  in  Asia,  I  greatly  fear  the  first  empire  to 
suffer  from  it  would  be  England.  It  would  bring 
nearer  the  other  inevitable  conflict — that  between 
Anglo-Saxon  and  Slav  for  Asiatic  dominancy — and 
would  also  impose  on  England  the  necessity  of  adding 
immensely  to  her  military  and  naval  forces  in  Asia. 
Few  people  seem  to  realise  what  Russia  has  gained 
by  the  practical  incorporation  of  Mongolia,  '  the  bee- 
hive of  nations,'  whence  had  issued  the  Huns  and 
Tartars  for  the  conquest  of  the  Western  world." 

It  was  not  possible  to  go  through  this  campaign 
without  hearing  in  various  quarters  the  reports  which 
had  been  circulated  with  regard  to  the  massacre 
of  Christians  by  the  Turks.  Personally,  I  cannot 
believe  there  was  ever  any  substantial  foundation 
for  these  rumours,  and  the  inquiries  I  made  did  not 
induce  me  to  change  my  opinions  in  regard  to  those 
allegations. 

In  this  connection  it  will  be  of  interest  to  quote 
the  indignant  protest  made  by  the  Ottoman  Govern- 
ment "  against  the  fabrications  which,  since  the 
beginning  of  the  war,  have  been  finding  their  way 
into  a  certain  portion  of  the  European  Press,  alleg- 
ing massacres,  plunder,  and  arson  in  the  Bulgarian, 
Servian,  and  Greek  villages  of  European  Turkey." 
It  is  declared  in  Turkish  sources  "  that  these  in- 
ventions, concocted  by  the  allied  enemies  of  Turkey 
with  a  view  to  preparing  an  anti-Turkish  atmosphere 
in  the  public    opinion    of  Europe,  are    without   any 


THE   MISUNDERSTOOD   TURK        291 

foundation  whatever.  The  Ottoman  Government  is 
therefore  anxious  to  warn  the  British  public  not  to 
attach  any  credence  to  them,  and,  as  a  proof  of  the 
criminal  plans  which  are  being  prepared,  the  Porte 
publishes  a  telegram  from  the  Vali  of  Adrianople, 
which  states  that  Bulgarian  Comitadjis,  disguised  as 
Turkish  soldiers,  are  planning  the  massacre  of  the 
Macedonian  villagers,  in  order  that  their  crimes 
should  be  imputed  to  the  Turkish  troops,  while 
another  official  telegram  states  that,  after  crossing 
the  Turkish  frontier  near  Markotchlar,  the  Bulgarians 
set  fire,  by  means  of  bombs,  to  twelve  villages,  where 
they  committed  abominable  acts. 

"  From  an  official  Turkish  source  it  is  learned 
that  the  reports  contained  in  telegrams  from  Sofia, 
announcing  the  bombardment  of  unfortified  localities 
and  the  destruction  of  monasteries  and  private 
buildings  at  Varna,  have  not  the  least  foundation. 
The  official  report  from  the  naval  Commander-in- 
Chief,  which  has  reached  the  Ottoman  Government, 
states  that  the  fire  from  the  Turkish  fleet  was  not 
directed  against  private  buildings  or  religious  estab- 
lishments, but  against  a  distant  point  of  the  town 
where  the  enemy's  torpedo-boats  had  taken  refuge, 
and  against  those  points  where  military  movements 
were  taking  place," 


CHAPTER   XXV 

EFFECTS   OF   ENVER  BEY'S   STRATEGY 

Since  my  return  from  the  Near  East,  the  news  re- 
ceived from  it  had  not  been  very  encouraging,  so  far 
as  the  Turks  were  concerned.  If  the  telegrams  were 
to  be  rehed  upon,  the  Porte,  under  its  new  regime, 
was  recognising  that  it  was  scarcely  possible  to 
retrieve  her  disasters  in  the  field. 

But  it  was  unsafe  to  place  credence  in  anything 
except  official  reports,  and  it  was  particularly  danger- 
ous to  believe  reports  of  Ottoman  disasters  when  they 
emanated  from  the  enemy.  The  Turks  laboured  under 
a  great  disadvantage  which  did  not  afi:ect  the  Allies. 
The  reports  and  letters  which  constantly  appeared 
in  various  journals  came  through  the  foreign  post 
offices  in  Constantinople,  and  were  evidently  in- 
fluenced by  their  opponents  and  those  who  sympa- 
thised with  them.  All  news  from  the  seat  of  war 
practically  arrived  therefore  from  the  Balkans. 

At  the  same  time  the  position  of  the  Sublime 
Porte  was  not  really  so  desperate  as  many  people 
imagined,  notwithstanding  her  lack  of  preparedness 
for  the  war  and  her  extremely  unsatisfactory  organi- 
sation and  commissariat, 

Adrianople,  Skutari,  and  other  besieged  cities 
still   held  out,  and  the  reports  of  immense  casualty 


ENVER   BEY'S   STRATEGY  293 

lists  had  to  be  received  cum  grayio  salis.  News 
emanating  from  Sofia  came  obviously  from  an  mi- 
trustworthy  source. 

The  numbers  of  alleged  Turkish  dead,  wounded, 
and  captured  during  the  war  would  account  for  half 
the  population  of  Turkey,  and  yet  Turkey  still  seemed 
to  be  able  to  place  armies  in  the  field ;  and  it  was 
believed  in  some  quarters  that,  if  peace  was  not 
arranged  in  the  meantime,  Adrianople  could  hold 
out  for  a  longer  period.  Last  year's  harvest  was 
fairly  bountiful,  and  it  certainly  would  surprise  me 
if  a  goodly  portion  of  it  was  not  still  in  the  maga- 
zines of  the  city. 

Since  the  return  of  Enver  Bey,  and  his  extra- 
ordinarily daring  and  successful  coup  in  displacing 
Kiamil  Pasha  with  the  new  Turk  regime,  there  had 
been  general  expectations  in  the  city  and  elsewhere 
in  the  country  that  he  would  attempt  some  bold 
and  resourceful  operation  with  the  object  of  relieving 
the  pressure  on  the  Ottoman  lines  at  Tchatalja,  as 
well  as  improving  the  prospects  of  the  Turkish  forces 
generally. 

These  expectations  were  disappointed,  although 
there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Enver  Bey  landed 
with  many  thousand  troops  at  Eregli,  to  the  east  of 
Rodosto,  on  the  Sea  of  Marmora. 

The  coast  at  this  point  is  fairly  well  indented, 
and  the  land  runs  upwards  from  the  sea  into  hills 
varying  from  500  to  1000  feet  high.  The  Bulgarians 
were  in  possession  of  Eregli,  Rodosto,  and  Silivri,  but 


294     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

the  Turkish  fleet  appear  to  have  used  their  guns  so 
effectively  as  to  enable  Enver  Bey  and  his  expedi- 
tionary force  to  land  with  the  object  of  carrying  out 
their  operations.  The  plan  was  a  most  difficult  as 
well  as  an  extremely  daring  one,  and  it  provided  a 
further  illustration  of  the  genius  of  Enver  Bey  to 
strike  at  the  enemy  in  an  unexpected  position,  which, 
if  successful,  would  have  enabled  him  to  cut  the 
Bulgarians  practically  in  half  and  to  relieve  the 
pressure  on  Tchatalja. 

There  were  great  possibilities  in  this  large  flanking 
movement  if  it  could  have  been  carried  out  with 
the  skill  which  had  characterised  the  preliminary 
operation.  To  deal  with  it  efl'ectually  the  Bulgarians 
found  it  necessary  to  withdraw  a  much  larger  force 
than  Enver  Bey's  from  the  lines  at  Tchatalja  than 
they  could  afi^ord  to  spare  if  they  were  to  hold  the 
Ottoman  troops  there,  and  to  prevent  them  moving 
forward  with  the  object  of  co-operating  with   Enver 

Bey. 

The  activity  of  the  Turks  in  this  comparatively 
new  sphere  of  operations  clearly  disconcerted  the 
Allies,  who  had  not  been  altogether  prepared  for  the 
unexpected  energy  and  strategy  of  their  opponents. 

It  was  not  merely  the  landing  at  Eregli  that  had 
to  be  dealt  with,  for  it  appears  that  thousands  of 
Turkish  troops  had  also  been  disembarked  at  Bodosto, 
while  reinforcements  had  been  shipped  for  Gallipoli. 
A  further  force  had  been  landed  at  Silivri. 

The  military  situation  therefore  had  been  consider- 


ENVER   BEY'S   STRATEGY  295 

ably  improved  from  the  Turkish  point  of  view,  because 
if  they  could  have  maintained  their  hold  upon  these 
places  they  would  have  been  able  to  make  movements 
towards  the  railway  and  to  cut  off  the  Bulgarian  lines 
of  communication. 

It  had  been  reported  that  the  Bulgarians  had 
desired  to  draw  the  Turks  out  of  their  strong  positions 
at  Tchatalja,  but  the  choice  had  not  been  left  to 
them.  Enver  Bey  had  created  for  them  a  position 
of  much  anxiety,  for  instead  of  continuing  the  offensive 
against  Tchatalja  they  were  compelled  to  deal  with 
these  new  forces. 

These  daring  movements  were,  however,  made 
a  little  too  late.  With  my  experience  in  Turkey 
during  the  campaign  I  can  quite  understand  how 
the  Ottoman  forces  were  driven  back.  Some  of  the 
reasons  for  their  lack  of  success  I  have  described  in 
earlier  chapters.  But  I  am  compelled  to  pay  my 
tribute  of  admiration  to  the  skill  and  daring  of 
Enver  Bey,  as  exhibited  at  almost  the  eleventh  hour, 
in  thus  striving  to  turn  the  tide  of  battle  against 
the  enemies  of  his  country, 

A  determined  effort  was  being  made  to  save  as 
much  as  possible  from  the  wreck  which  at  one  time 
appeared  to  be  overtaking  the  Turkish  cause  and  to 
be  depriving  the  Porte  of  such  a  large  portion  of  her 
dominions. 

It  was  Enver  Bey's  new  operations  that  created 
the  conviction  that  such  a  fine  display  of  activity 
on   the   part   of   the   Turks   would    enable   them   to 


296     TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

obtain  better  terms  than  they  could   possibly  secure 
had  not  these  fresh  developments  occurred. 

In  such  an  altered  position  of  affairs  the  invitation 
which  there  is  good  reason  to  believe  was  made  by 
Tewfik  Pasha,  on  behalf  of  the  Ottoman  Government, 
to  Sir  Edward  Grey,  to  invite  the  Great  Powers  to 
intervene  to  stop  the  war,  has  had  a  good  effect. 

I  quite  sympathise  with  the  struggles  that  have 
been  made  by  the  Turkish  delegates  to  prevent  a 
peace  settlement  which  would  practically  have  the 
effect,  if  not  actually,  of  driving  them  "bag  and 
baggage  out  of  Europe." 

Should  the  Peace  Conference  be  resumed  there 
is  no  reason,  in  my  opinion,  why  Turkey  should  not 
be  granted  terms  to  enable  her  to  preserve  her 
national  self-respect. 

When  these  important  negotiations  were  set  on 
foot  in  December,  ^ there  was  general  hope  that  it 
might  result  either  in  a  Christmas  message  of  "  Peace 
on  Earth "  between  the  belligerents,  or  at  all  events 
in  a  New  Year's  greeting  to  the  same  effect.  Unfor- 
tunately these  hopes  were  doomed  to  failure,  for  the 
resumption  of  the  war  has  brought  about  the  capture 
of  Jannina  by  the  Greeks. 

So  far  as  Enver  Bey's  expedition  is  concerned,  it 
failed  because  he  had  not  a  sufficient  force  to  carry 
it  out  effectively,  and  also  for  the  reason  that  the 
Turkish  army  at  Tchatalja  was  prevented  by  ex- 
tensive flooding  in  front  of  their  positions  from 
advancing  to  co-operate  with  him.     The  terrible  state 


ENVER  BEY'S   STRATEGY  297 

of  the  country  for  the  same  reason  prevented  any 
attempts  being  made  to  march  to  the  relief  of 
Adrianople. 

A  further  factor  in  preventing  the  success  of  the 
expedition  was  the  attempt  made  by  the  Allies  to 
take  the  Turks  in  flank  by  landing  on  the  Asiatic 
as  well  as  on  the  European  side  of  the  Dardanelles, 
with  the  object  of  attacking  the  forts  and  so  opening 
the  way  to  Constantinople. 

If  Enver  Bey's  strategy  failed,  so  also  did  that  of 
the  Allies  in  attempting  to  get  at  Constantinople 
from  this  direction,  because  the  Turks  hurried  up 
reinforcements  from  Galipoli  and  other  positions  to 
defend  the  road  to  Constantinople. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

THE    CAPTURE    OF    JANNINA 

The  capture  of  Jannina  by  the  Greeks  on  March  6th 
—  since  the  negotiations  for  peace  in  London  were 
broken  off  —  has  been  one  of  the  most  notable  ex- 
ploits in  the  war,  and  it  was  only  natural  that  it 
should  have  created  much  enthusiasm  and  rejoicing 
throughout  Greece. 

The  Allies  have  naturally  been  congratulated  on 
their  ability  to  wrest  from  the  Porte  a  natural  modern 
stronghold  of  the  first  importance,  on  the  fortifications 
of  which,  on  the  authority  of  the  Turkish  Commander, 
Essad  Pasha,  over  £1,000,000  has  been  spent. 

The  Turks  have  always  proved  themselves  capable 
of  defending  their  most  essential  positions  to  the 
extreme  limit  of  endurance,  and  their  tenacity, 
endurance,  and  bravery  have  again  been  proved  in 
regard  to  Jannina.  The  fighting  that  took  place  on 
the  terrible  Bisani  Hill  of  this  Turkish  fortress  in 
Epirus  was  of  the  most  desperate  character.  The 
fact  that  25,000  shells  were  fired  on  two  days  at 
Jannina  will  illustrate  the  desperate  efforts  made  by 
the  Greeks  to  capture  the  town  and  fortress. 

Jannina  is  said  to  have  gained  its  name  from  its 
Christian  founder.  It  was  a  Byzantine  city  until 
the  year  1432,  when  Amurath  II   sent  a   summons 

sgS 


THE   CAPTURE   OF   JANNINA       301 

one  of  the  greatest  successes  of  the  campaign,  but  it 
could  not  fail  to  have  the  effect  of  making  the  Turks 
more  inclined  to  treat  for  peace.  At  the  same  time 
its  possession  by  the  Allies  was  likely  to  create  further 
difficulties  between  them  and  Austria  in  regard  to  the 
delimitation  of  the  boundaries  of  Albania,  also  to 
stiffen  the  demands  of  the  Allies. 

That  no  time  was  lost  by  the  Greeks  in  completing 
the  taking  over  of  Jannina  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
as  soon  as  the  protocol  in  regard  to  its  surrender  had 
been  signed,  General  Sontzo  was  appointed  Governor 
of  the  city  and  at  once  took  up  his  functions,  and  the 
Crown  Prince  made  a  triumphal  entry  into  it. 

This  great  success,  combined  with  other  captures 
made  by  the  Greeks  in  Epirus,  added  largely  to  the 
number  of  Turkish  prisoners  made  by  them  in  the 
course  of  the  campaign,  and  the  cost  of  keeping  them 
represents  a  serious  expenditure  to  their  Government. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   FALL   OF   ADRIANOPLE 

The  defence  of  Adrianople  by  the  Turks  before  it 
was  captured  on  March  26th  constitutes  one  of  the 
most  glorious  feats  of  arms  of  modern  times.  Not 
only  had  the  garrison  to  contend  against  overwhelm- 
ing armies  of  Bulgarians  and  Servians,  superior  artil- 
lery fire,  and  constant  assaults,  but  also  against 
famine,  which  decimated  the  large  civil  population  and 
the  brave  troops  commanded  by  the  heroic  Shukri 
Pasha,  and  rendered  further  resistance  hopeless. 

The  Ottoman  troops  fought  like  heroes  for  the 
second  city  of  their  Empire  until  the  last  possible 
moment,  and  it  was  not  taken  by  assault  without 
inflicting  immense  losses  on  the  attacking  forces  of 
Bulgarians  and  Servians,  whole  regiments  and  com- 
panies of  whom  were  swept  away  by  artillery  and 
infantry  fire,  as  well  as  by  mines. 

The  siege  of  Adrianople  will  be  recorded  in  history 
as  having  been  even  more  prolonged  than  that  of 
Plevna,  for  it  was  maintained  for  155  days ;  and  it  will 
be  remembered  as  being  worthy  to  rank  with  the  de- 
fence of  Strasburg,  Sebastopol,  Paris,  and  Port  Arthur. 

The  Turks,  although  defeated,  have  therefore  not 
been  disgraced.  It  was  because  of  the  high  place 
which  Adrianople  held  in  the  Islamic  world  that  they 
fought  for  it  to   the  bitter  end.     They  have  thus 


THE   FALL   OF   ADRIANOPLE       303 

saved  the  prestige  of  their  Empire,  and  although 
their  dominions  in  Europe  will  necessarily  be  greatly 
reduced  as  the  results  of  the  war  and  the  mediation 
of  the  Great  Powers,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe 
that  the  settlement  which  will  be  effected  will  con- 
duce more  to  the  peace  and  balance  of  power  in 
Europe  than  any  other  event  in  modern  times. 

The  Turks  have  been  forced  to  recognise  the  great 
defects  of  their  military  and  naval  organisation.  But 
they  say:  '^  We  are  a  young  nation — mere  infants  in 
our  knowledge  of  the  political  freedom  of  the  Western 
nations.  But  they  give  us  no  chance,  no  time  to 
effect  our  reforms.  Look  at  your  troubles  with 
Ireland.  We  have  always  had  a  dozen  Irelands  on 
our  hands.  Our  soldiers  are  as  brave  as  ever.  The 
debacle  has  not  quenched  our  spirits  or  our  hopes. 
But  what  can  we  do  in  the  face  of  Europe?  "  This 
is  but  a  sample  of  the  convictions  and  conversation 
of  any  enlightened  Moslem. 

Old  and  Young  Turk  clamour  in  the  cafes  over 
the  merits  or  demerits  of  this  system  or  that,  but 
they  do  not  seem  able  to  form  a  united  solid  party 
for  either.  Their  views  are  narrow  and  shortsighted 
rather  than  broad  and  generous  in  matters  political. 

It  is  with  great  regret  that  I  have  been  compelled 
to  record  the  reverses  sustained  by  a  really  noble 
and  generously  disposed  nation.  But  they  provide 
a  wonderful  illustration  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
visitations  of  Providence  are  accepted  by  Moslems, 
and  should  be  an  object  lesson  to  other  races. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

THE    STKUGGLE    FOR   SKUTARI 

Skutaei,  tlie  capital  of  the  province  of  Albania,  is 
another  of  the  three  strongholds  of  Turkey  which 
have  made  such  a  dogged  resistance  to  the  Allies. 
It  is  built  on  a  plain  which  is  well  watered  by  several 
tributaries  of  the  Boyana  River,  and  many  small 
streams  flowing  into  the  Lake  of  Skutari.  The  climate 
is  not  ideal.  Very  heavy  rainfalls  swell  the  streams, 
causing  them  to  overflow  the  country,  thus  making 
travelling  almost  impossible.  In  the  summer  the 
radiated  heat  from  the  mountains  of  Montenegro  is 
almost  unbearable. 

The  chief  feature  besides  the  natural  grandeur 
of  its  mountainous  environment  is  the  fortress  on 
the  Mount  of  Tarabosch,  which  dominates  the  citadel, 
town,  and  surrounding  country.  This  is  the  key  of 
the  position  and  is  the  reason  of  the  strenuous  attacks 
by  the  Montenegrins,  whose  country  shares  the  lake 
with  Albania. 

Montenegro's  claims  were  at  first  limited  to  the 
ownership  of  the  little  port  of  Ricka,  thirty  miles  away, 
at  the  northern  end  of  Lake  Skutari,  which  is  re- 
nowned for  its  wild  beauty,  the  lofty  mountains 
dipping  their  bases  into  its  limpid  water.  Small 
valleys  and  hamlets  dot  the  ravines. 


THE   STRUGGLE   FOR   SKUTARI     305 

After  the  Turko-Russian  War  the  boundaries  of 
Montenegro  were  enlarged,  and  encroached  on  the 
borders  of  the  lake,  taking  in  Tabliock,  the  ancient 
capital  of  Albania,  of  which  now  only  the  crumbling 
ruins  of  the  old  fort  remain. 

The  city  is  divided  into  two  parts.  One  portion 
nestles  against  the  old  citadel,  which  stands  on  a 
high  precipitous  hill  and  is  enclosed  within  crenel- 
lated walls.  The  newer  portion  is  well  built,  with 
fairly  good  streets  and  squares  planted  with  chestnuts 
and  elms.  A  tree  called  Foglet  also  flourishes  here, 
being  peculiar  to  Skutari.  It  grows  nowhere  else 
in  Albania.  The  wood  is  most  valuable  and  is  bought 
up  by  the  Italians  for  the  purpose  of  making  whips, 
and  to  take  the  place  of  whalebone,  owing  to  its 
pliancy.  It  is  so  tough  and  elastic  that  it  can  be 
twisted  into  any  shape,  and  when  released  recovers 
its  natural  position. 

The  splendid  defence  of  Skutari  by  the  Turks 
excited  the  admiration  and  the  respect  of  the  whole 
of  the  civilised  world.  The  Great  Powers  exerted 
their  utmost  influence  to  induce  the  Montenegrins  to 
raise  the  siege,  in  order  that  the  city  should  be  in- 
corporated in  Albania,  which  it  had  been  arranged 
should  be  converted  into  an  autonomous  State.  But 
the  Montenegrins  made  the  greatest  sacrifices  to 
capture  it. 

Austria-Hungary  was  furious,  and  even  threatened 
if  the  Great  Powers  could  not  bring  the  Montenegrins 
to  reason  to  compel  the  latter  to  abandon  the  siege. 


3P6    TWO  YEARS  UNDER  THE  CRESCENT 

An  international  fleet  was  sent  to  overawe  Monte- 
negro, and  exciting  developments  and  complications 
were  expected  wlien,  on  April  22,  tlie  startling  an- 
nouncement was  made  that  the  Turks  had  been  com- 
pelled to  evacuate  Skutari,  and  that  the  Montenegrins 
had  taken  possession  of  it  amid  great  rejoicings. 

The  strongest  possible  protests  were  made  by 
Austria-Hungary  against  the  capital  of  Albania 
being  allowed  to  remain  in  the  hands  of  the  Monte- 
negrins, and  the  Great  Powers  thereupon  took  stronger 
action  and  called  upon  them  to  withdraw  their  troops 
from  the  city.  This  had  no  effect  at  first,  but  after- 
wards the  demand  was  complied  with  and  the  Great 
Powers  took  possession  of  it  and  installed  a  British 
Admiral  as  Governor. 

It  was  then  believed  that,  with  Turkey  and  the 
Allies  willing  to  accept  mediation,  and  with  Bulgaria 
and  Roumania  agreeable  to  the  adjustment  of  their 
claims  by  the  same  means,  all  further  friction  could 
be  avoided.  But  the  Balkan  embroglio  has  been  at 
all  times  full  of  surprises,  and  it  was  feared  that  the 
hopes  and  expectations  of  the  Powers  and  of  Europe 
generally  were  to  be  disappointed  and  a  settlement 
postponed,  when  to  the  relief  of  the  whole  European 
situation  the  preliminary  treaty  of  peace  was  signed 
by  the  delegates  of  the  Balkan  Allies  and  of  Turkey 
with  the  London  Peace  Conference  on  May  30,  1913, 
and  the  war  of  the  Balkan  States  on  Turkey  formally 
came  to  an  end. 


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